Battle Scars
by Thoughts in Chaos
Summary: (Part 2 of 3) After 3 years in obscurity Imogen Campbell has retuned to the WWE as the mysterious masked sensation, Nova. Some people seemed to have changed & lives, for the most part, have moved on. But when a heated rivalry goes to far & old feelings begin to resurface, how will the revelations it brings affect those involved? Sequel to Cause & Effect.
1. Chapter 1

_OK... I was going to actually leave this alone until I had at least three or four chapters written, but I have about as much discipline at that as I would trapped in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory... which wouldn't be a hell of a lot at all. Might be an idea to read up on the first one to get a general idea of what's going on, but I hope to be able to pull this off so it wont be necessary if folks would rather just jump straight into this one. Apologies in advance for any mistakes that appear in the small amount of Spanish, again blame google translate if it's incorrect._

_Enter any and all applicable disclaimers here..._

* * *

**Stamford, Connecticut, Febuary 13th, 2013.**

Vince McMahon could hear the nerves creeping through at the other end of the line, despite the owner's effort to stymie any apprehension. He knew he could have handed this job off to someone else, but there was something in him that demanded he be the one to see it through. Something, he hoped, that would give both sides a bit of closure. Truth be told he was surprised that had even got this far, after everything that happened this would be the last thing he would have expected. Though the more he listened the more he felt he understood. It was time to stop running, time to stop ignoring the elephant in the room. After working out the majority of the deal he just had one question left that had been bugging him since the conversation started.

"What about Bennett?"

The voice paused for a moment, thinking the deceptively simple yet loaded question over. He had no doubt that the current state of Smackdown's World Heavyweight champion was no secret to his caller. After a slight pause Vince got an answer, it's slightly defensive tone wasn't unnoticed either. "What about him? I don't see how any business on Raw would affect Smackdown."

It was a valid point he conceded, so Vince grunted in agreement before moving on. "Listen, no doubt this is going to feel somewhat... strained, for a while. I just want you to know that at any point this feels like it's getting to much we call it off immediately." He said, that same unnamed feeling nudging him on again, "And just... thank you for giving us this second chance, even after everything that's happened."

He could hear the reasoning in the reply that followed in a surprisingly gentle tone, "I think both of us are getting a second chance here. Maybe we all need this for our own reasons, Mr McMahon."

"Yes," He answered as he slowly swivelled around in his office chair to look absently out the large window, "I think you maybe right on that."

* * *

**Monday Night Raw. April 8th, 2013**

The was a buzz humming in the undertow of the usual energy surrounding the Raw that followed the night of Wrestlemania; word on the grapevine was that a new Diva was finally starting tonight after weeks of vignettes. The catch? The only thing anyone knew was she had been a luchadora for Mexico's AAA wrestling promotion that went by the name Nova. While WWE has had it's share of lucha libre practitioners, this was the first time they were branching out and had a woman under the mask. How well the other ladies would adapt to such an fast paced and high flying style was going to be interesting.

Barbie Blank was standing in the hall having an idle conversation with Sarona Reiher, better known as Tamina Snuka, about that very subject when the topic of conversation rounded the corner on the way to the Divas locker room. Wearing a light sweater with the hood pulled up and dark tinted bug eye styled sunglasses it was impossible to see any distinctive characteristics of her face. With her head down she seemingly didn't notice her two new workmates until Sarona went and tapped her on the shoulder, both women surprised at the speed in which the luchadora turned at the unexpected contact.

"Sorry." The second generation wrestler said, "I didn't mean to startle you." When she got no response she looked quizzically over at her blond companion who simply answered her with a similar look. "OK, maybe you're a little nervous about being here, first night and all." When she still didn't get an answer Sarona slowly backed off with her hands in the air, "You do understand english, right?" Fighting an exasperated sigh the trio was at an impasse, neither of the resident Divas knowing quite what to do under the silent gaze of the third.

"Evening, ladies."

"Oscar!" Barbie smiled, giving the approaching high flyer a quick hug. "Maybe you can help us." She said, "We're not sure the new girl speaks english."

Oscar Gutierrez, AKA Rey Mysterio, looked from Barbie to the new recruit, who still hadn't moved. Her stance didn't convey that she was nervous or trying to intimidate the other two. She was merely... studying them if he had to guess. "Hola," He began casually, "Hablas Inglés?"

"Si." She finally answered, "Acabo de decidir no."

He exhaled and idly scratched the back of his head, her accent was almost perfect. Almost. There was something that marked her Spanish was a second language, so he couldn't understand why she'd refuse to speak in English. Extreme keeping of character perhaps? Still, there was something else bugging him, her voice sounded somewhat familiar but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. With a shrug he turned back to Barbie, "She can understand you, she just chooses to speak in Spanish." Without another word word Nova had turned and continued on to the locker room, leaving the other three to wonder just how difficult this was going to be.

Looking around the room and finding it empty she quickly changed. Pushing short hair back before sliding on the metallic crimson half mask that was adorned with golden shooting stars over her eyes, their trails disappeared into a wig of fiery red hair that made up the back of the disguise. Once it was secured she pulled on the rest of her costume, the same glittering red colour adorned her tights and and sleeveless top, a trail of gold stars running down the length of her spine and thighs before disappearing into red boots covered by gold coloured leg guards. Lacing up the the pair of golden coloured leather wristbands Nova gave herself a quick once over in one of the mirrors on the wall, smoothing the fake follicles back and took a deep breath. It felt strange being back here after so much time had passed, but she couldn't help but be a little amused that no-one knew her true identity.

Yet.

There was one person on the entire Raw roster that she knew she had to see as soon as possible after the show, he'd never let her live it down if she didn't. But for now Nova left the locker room and headed for the main office, she had an appointment to keep and didn't want to be late. "Come in." commanded a muffled voice from behind the door, Vince McMahon looking up from his paperwork as she closed the door behind her. "Ah, you've arrived. No trouble I hope?"

"Only a little awkward moment with the whole 'I'm not speaking English' thing with Barbie and Jimmy Snuka's daughter." She replied, standing a few feet away from the chairman, "Oscar turned up and was dragged into playing interpreter."

The distance she kept from him, as well as the slightly uneasy air, didn't go unnoticed but it wasn't something he was willing to challenge. Just her being here was a huge step, regardless of the fact no-one besides himself and Jim Ross knew who was under the mask. "I had the latest for your angle faxed over, Victoria already got her copy earlier." He said as he passed over a few sheets that had been stapled in the corner, "About halfway through the match Natalya and Beth will attempt interference to allow you the spot to take to the top rope out of the ring. That insane corkscrew thing you do ought to get attention enough on its own."

Nova grinned a little, over the past year before she had finally taken the WWE's employment offer had solidified her love for the high octane style of acrobatic lucha libre wrestling. When she was barely out of her teens some of her first ventures into the world of professional wrestling had been in Mexico, so learning to tackle the high risk manoeuvres became something of a must. As the years passed it had always somehow managed to co-exist with the old fashioned shoot style techniques she had been originally trained in, making it a unique style all of her own. But ever since donning a mask and stepping back between the ropes the ground and pound submission technician in her had all but disappeared to prevent anyone from putting two and two together.

"It's going to be weird coming back as the good girl." She idly commented as Nova briefly flipped through the outline for the next few weeks. The majority of her career had been as the villain, so spending the last twelve months or so as a heroine had been interesting change of pace.

"If it makes you more comfortable we can set up a heel turn later down the line."

"No, I'm fine with it, it's just different is all."

He merely grunted in response as his phone started to ring so she excused herself, leaving him to his business she left the office. Reading the notes in detail as she walked down the hall Nova came to an abrupt halt, a chest covered in grey cotton and emblazoned with the words 'In Punk We Trust' mere inches from her nose. It took all she had not to squeal and throw her arms around his neck in an overly exuberant hug; instead forcing herself to settle on a brief smile and a quick apology, in Spanish of course, for not watching where she was going and moved along. Phil's brow furrowed in curiosity at the rush of words he couldn't understand but grasped the gist of, something about her voice sounded familiar as well as the friendly grin. He shrugged and put it out of his mind as he went on his way to the locker room so he could get ready for his match against Miz tonight.

* * *

Luis Alvirde -Sin Cara- watched the latest WWE talent walk into catering from behind the glittering gold and silver mesh that hid his eyes. While it wasn't overly crowded Nova stood with a bottle of water in hand as she debated where to sit. With his inability to speak much English the masked high flier was short on people with whom he could sit down and have a real conversation outside the small circle of fellow Hispanic workmates. With a friendly wave he invited her to sit with him.

"_Pleasure to meet you._" Luis said as they covered the usual pleasantries, "_I've seen a couple of your matches here and there, I enjoyed them a lot._"

"_G__racias, that means a great deal coming from the man who was __Místico__._" Nova replied, telling that she had caught him a little surprised about knowing a some of his own career's past. "_I even managed to get my hands on some of the comics they made of you to._" She added, somewhat sheepishly, not entirely sure why she had just told him that.

"Well I could always sign them for you sometime, if you like." He chuckled, mainly to try and settle her apparent unease. She didn't come across as scared exactly, but there was definitely small tell tale signs that she was a little tense. Like the continual twisting of the loose plastic ring around the bottle neck. Perhaps it was first day jitters he told himself. "_So, what made you decide to cross over from AAA?_" She didn't answer right away, the extended silence started to make him curious. To him it seemed an innocent enough question yet appeared to make her visibly nervous for a second.

"_The pay cheque for one._" She finally answered and forced herself to relax, "_The exposure isn't bad either. It'll be nice to show that lucha libre goes beyond talented men like yourself, I want to show the world that luchadoras can hold their own to._"

Some of the answer he bought, some of it he didn't. She was hiding something but it wasn't his place to demand what, Luis concluded. They talked for a while longer until over her shoulder he observed an approaching stage hand, "_Well it has been a pleasure to talk to you, señorita Nova._" He said with sincerity, "_But I think someone has come to fetch you._" Nova looked over her shoulder before standing up and the two masked wrestlers parted ways before she headed out. Her match wasn't actually due to start for at least five more minutes, but it was good to be in position early without a whirlwind of activity all around so one could really get some last second focus in.

When she arrived Victoria was already there, the gleam of the Divas championship sparkling around her waist. "Show you're the fresh meat, huh?" She scoffed with an air of superiority, "Just try not to botch things up out there, I have a date tonight."

Nova didn't say a word, didn't even show any sort of response that she had even understood anything that Victoria just said. She merely focused on her breathing until Alicia Fox had finally gotten down to ringside. Her own music cued and she was given the signal, stepping out under the bright lights the roar of the crowd hit her and unleashed its familiar adrenaline rush. Spurring the crowd on more she then pointed at the ring before charging off down the ramp before spring-boarding of a small trampoline at the base of the ring, leaping over the top rope like a cat and used the momentum to bounce of the ropes in a quick handspring. When she had finished with the acrobatic display she smirked at the champion, if anyone was going to botch this match it sure as hell wasn't going to be Nova.

* * *

_I know I just ripped off Sin Cara's original entrance, but it's to fun to just leave alone for dust to settle on since he doesn't use it any more. For the sake of creative license in this slightly AU world we'll say he never did it to begin with, yes?_

_Here's the part where you make my day and fill in the little box below with praise and/or CONSTRUCTIVE criticism._

_Peace!_


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: The finisher is from an indy wrestler called Jody Fleisch called the 720 DDT. I thought it would fit in well with a high flyer created wrestler. If you're a little curious as to how it looks there's a couple of clips up on Youtube._

* * *

"What do you think she looks like under the mask, Cole?"

"Really, King? What does that have to do with anything?" Michael Cole replied with a note of annoyance at the slightly dreamy tone in Jerry Lawler's voice. As usual the King had been acting like a hormonal fourteen year old and exasperating his broadcast colleague over the past seven minutes or so. For the most part Alicia Fox had been completely outclassed by her opponent, thrown off entirely by the rapid fire attacks coming from unpredictable angles.

"I'm just saying, if Nova looks as good as she wrestles under that mask, then the woman must be a goddess."

"OH! Nova just put down Alicia with authority! What a drop kick!" He exclaimed, choosing to call the action over arguing with his fellow commentator as the luchadora nailed the Diva's champ square in the chest after preventing the superplex Alicia had tried and pushed her off, then launched herself off the turn buckle for the counter attack.

"Don't look now but it looks like Beth Phoenix and Natalya have come down to give the champion a hand." The King observed, "This doesn't look good for No- wait a minute!" Nova seemed to be aware of the extra competition, turning around and lined them up before sprinting across the ring and leaping off the top rope, her body twisting in the perfect execution of a corkscrew splash, or Star Fall as Nova had dubbed it. "Oh my god! I don't think I've ever seen anything like that from _any_ of the Divas!"

Breathing hard and a little dazed Nova lay in the heap of bodies that consisted of herself, Nattie and Beth. Out of all the Divas on the current roster that she knew these were the only two she would've trusted for that particular spot not to drop her or let her crash and burn. When the ref reached a count of five she began to stir, managing to get back under the ropes by the time he reached nine and Alicia went straight on the attack, stomping away before the ref drove her off and allowed her opponent to get off the ropes. While Alicia was busy arguing with the ref Nova slipped out onto the apron, legs tensed like a cat poised to strike. When the Divas champ finally managed to get past Chad Patton Nova launched herself, body twisting as she landed on the top rope and balancing there for a mere moment before springing of it in another flashy twist then pulling her opponent into a DDT.

It was over, Alicia was out like a light as the new Diva covered her for the three count as the fans voiced their approval for the new comer and her high risk style. "I think it's safe to say that all the Divas have just been put on notice, Jerry." Cole commented as the ref raised Nova's arm, "Do you think any of them will be able to best Nova's unorthodox offence?"

"I don't know, Cole, though it should be exciting to find out!" Lawler answered, "But one thing's for sure, she's not to be taken lightly."

Mike and Phil had been watching the match as they waited to go on next and both had to admit, it was highly entertaining. "Personally I think the old man should bring in a few more of those... what do you call them?" Mike asked.

Phil simply rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh, Mike was a good guy but he really did have his proverbial 'blond' moments. "_Luchadoras_, Mizanin. Try to keep up."

"Right, luchdoras." he repeated, "That was great!"

Phil merely made a non committal noise in agreement, there had been something about a couple of the new girl's key moves that tickled at his memory and he was trying to recall why. Idly he scratched at his neatly trimmed beard, the familiarity was really beginning to bug him and he needed to figure it out soon before it really started to get to him. No sooner had he thought it Nova had come back through the curtain. As soon as she saw him again the infuriatingly familiar smile lit up in recognition of him, then it became more professional and a little less personal as Nova eyed Mike who was a step behind him.

"You. Are. _Awesome_." Mike grinned, the blatant pun going unsaid, "That was the best Divas match that didn't directly involve Beth, Nattie or Sarona being in the ring that I've seen in ages." He stopped to think a second before amending his statement. "I suppose I should include Babs on that list to, she's done her share of improvement. Just a shame she didn't get to have that one on one rematch with Imo-"

"Mike." Phil growled, "Shut it."

The look on the WWE Champion's face conveyed that he wasn't kidding, Mike mentally face palming himself for even bringing it up. Three years on and it could still be a potential sore spot, Punk hating any reminder of the situation that drove one of his best friends to the decision to not only leave town, but the country to. He refrained from shaking his head at his own private thoughts, _'If only you knew the impact you left behind, Campbell.'_ His music was the first to hit, Mike switching from his laid back self to the cocky, self absorbed 'must see superstar' the Miz. The crowd giving him the much deserved heel reaction he sought from them.

Phil's attention shifted as Nova placed a gentle hand on his arm, her attitude and small smile conveying sympathy at his current sour shift in mood... or was it reassurance? He couldn't quite tell. Before he could even ask she was already retreating back to the locker room as his own theme started, forcing him to once again leave the matter be for the time being. Taking a deep breath he burst through the curtain and was bathed in the bright lights under the roar of thousands as he looked at his wrist before hollering his customary catchphrase.

"It's clobberin' time!"

* * *

As Nova finally got to the women's locker room and finding it occupied she became a little apprehensive, wondering how she was going to shower and change without having to reveal her identity to any of them. She briefly considered just waiting until she had reached the hotel, but the grimy, sweat drying sensation objected strongly to that idea. She wanted her skin to feel fresh and clean again. Until she figured out her predicament she sat down on the bench next to her bag and stared blankly up at the ceiling, giving her aching muscles a little time to relax.

Or at least that was the plan.

Victoria, her nose out of joint at being showed up to such a degree stormed over as Nova's butt barely graced the wooden seat. "I told you not to botch out there, not show me up!" She all but screeched at her masked adversary, "What the hell were you doing out there?!"

Nova's head cocked to the side a moment, her hidden eyes first looking at the Champion before scanning the room to see who else was privy to the little hissy fit Crawford was trying to have. She still wasn't ready to break into English just yet and the only Divas who knew she could weren't in the room. At first Nova was going to ignore her when she spotted Vickie Guerrero and a slow, condescending smile crept over the exposed part of her face.

"What did she say?!" Crawford demanded of the Guerrero matriarch.

"I'm not sure you really want to know." The older woman said as she tried to keep a straight face. Vickie had never cared much for the champion's self serving attitude, so the mild insult the luchadora had just given her was amusing.

"Just tell me."

"She said she was doing her best to give the people what they paid for, seeing as you have less talent than a brainless slug and are more predictable than a MASH repeat." Vickie paused as Nova added something else to the statement, "Tonight was a free pass, but if you don't lift your game she's simply going to bury you in under half a minute to show the crowd just how limited your skill set is."

At the last part Nattie's head shot up, there was only one woman she knew that would openly promise to refuse to put someone over if they clearly weren't doing their job the best they could. But the thought of that... She gave her head a small shake, the idea was insane. There was no way she'd come back here.

Victoria eyes narrowed venomously at the new arrival, "You better watch your step, Vince wouldn't like you treating his Divas champion like that."

Her indignation doubled when Nova merely snickered at her and she looked expectantly over at Vickie. "She said who do you think hired me in the first place? It was the old man himself." Standing up Nova hoisted her bag and walked toward the showers, relieved to find that at least in this arena they were each separated in their own individual stalls. When she reappeared wearing the same hoodie/sun glasses combo she arrived in Victoria was still giving her the evil eye, so walking over she pointed casually at the belt, said something then left.

"Well?"

Vickie just shook her head, "I think it was obvious, surely you can figure it out if you think hard enough."

Crawford scoffed haughtily in the older woman's direction before it finally sunk in a few minutes later when worked it out. "She's not going to take my title from me! Not if I have anything to do with it!"

Most of the other Divas merely ignored her, each secretly cheering that someone was going to show the champ how things were going to be done from now on.

* * *

No sooner had Phil fallen into the comforting embrace of his hotel bed his cell phone started to ring, the currently unwelcome sound cutting through the air like an obnoxious intrusion. He toyed with the idea of simply ignoring it and letting it ring out, it had been one confusing ass night with the new girl and her mystery attitude, not to mention Mike and his motor mouth going faster than his brain. But after the third persistent attempt he finally gave in. "Hello?" He answered, irritability seeping through the line.

"About time, Punkster." Came a familiar smart arse remark, "Check your caller ID once in a while."

His whole mood perked up at the sound of her voice; their calls, along with her letters, had been few and far between lately. "Cal?"

"Mhm." She replied, "How was the show?"

"OK I guess." He replied as he sat up on the bed, "Had a match with Mizinan tonight, he still doesn't know when to shut up either."

"I'm sure you let him know that with your most dazzling and eloquent people skills."

"Like you're one to talk." He shot back with a grin, "I still remember the time you first met Barbie." She laughed, a sound he hadn't heard in a long time and causing his smile to widen that much more.

"Yeah, it was certainly one first impression I'll never forget either. It was good to see she got her shit together in the end though." There was a pause on the line for a moment, followed by a soft hmm noise. "Were you in room 327 or 328?"

"327." He replied slowly with a note of puzzlement, "Why?"

No sooner had he asked there was a knock on the door and the line went dead, a sneaking suspicion slowly creeping up on him as he crossed the room to answer it. Opening it up he found familiar blue eyes staring up at him from the recess of the white hoodie she wore, sunglasses folded snugly around the front of it. "So I didn't knock on the wrong door, that's why." When he just seemed to stand there in shock she poked his arm, "You mind letting me in? I don't want the entire roster knowing who I am yet."

Snapping out of it he grabbed her by the wrist and all but yanked her off her feet, slamming the door shut behind them. "Cal?" He knew he was standing there gaping like an idiot, but his brain had gone on a coffee break as it processed this new information.

"Yes, Punkster, it's me. It's not a dream, you're not being 'Punked', it really is me." Imogen Campbell grinned, squealing a little as he finally regained his senses and gave her quite possibly the biggest hug she had ever received in her life. The room span briefly as he went so far as to lift her off her feet for a second before he finally let her go, holding her at arms length for a moment to make sure that it really wasn't just a dream.

"What are you doing here?" He finally managed to ask something than his usual moniker for her.

"_I thought that was obvious_." She answered in Spanish and grinned, watching as the pieces that had been teasing him all night finally fell into place.

"_You're_ Nova?!" He exclaimed, "How? Why?"

"We have a lot to catch up on, Punkster." Imogen said as she looked into his face, noting a inexplicable gaze in his eyes that she couldn't figure out and wondered what he was thinking. His surprise was still there, but there was something else to. "How much time do you have?"

Regaining his composure he invited her to take a seat on one end of the bed while he took the other and she passed him a pillow, going back to lying on his back as he looked over. "For you, Cal? I've got all the time in the world."


	3. Chapter 3

Phil woke up the next morning and looked across the modest hotel room, the sight making him grin to himself; curled up on the couch under a spare blanket slept Imogen. They had spent hours talking last night, catching up on all sorts of things that had happened in the three year absence that had separated them. Imogen had told him more about some of the places she had seen and things she had done while travelling through Europe, Japan and Mexico, what her roll in Dragon Gate had been and how it led her to finally come home. It still blew him away that she had met _the_ Bas Rutten, a former undefeated UFC Heavyweight champion, in her travels through the Netherlands.

In turn he had talked in detail about his big breakout moment back before he had 'quit' the WWE after beating Cena last summer for the WWE Championship and everything that had snowballed since. Her biggest question about it all? Where the hell were the ice cream bars?! He thought about it for a second, he really did have to get onto that at some point...

Phil's attention shifted back to her as she moved in her sleep, he couldn't believe she had chopped so much of her thick, long hair off into such a short cut. Then went and dyed it black with a mix of electric blue and violent purple streaks to top it off. She had put on a bit of muscle to, not a huge deal but it had shifted her figure just enough from that sly sultry form she had cultivated for Callisto to a more meaner, take no prisoners look. _And_ she had gotten her first tattoo! Two of them, technically. He felt a little proud at that for some reason, well aware of his own collection of ink. The pair of small tigers stood guard on either side just below the back of her neck with talons out and teeth sharpened, roaring their defiance. He still wasn't entirely sure if all the running from country to country had done her any good in the long term, but she clearly wasn't the same broken woman that had jumped on the first plane to get the hell out of dodge.

As if she was almost aware that someone was watching her Imogen's eyes snapped open, the unfamiliar room taking a second or two to recognise as the alert gaze relaxed when it came to rest on him. "What time is it?" She asked him sleepily, causing him to note another change. With all the travelling she had done her typical American accent she had left the country with had been skewed significantly.

He reached over for his phone and glanced at it's clock, "A little bit before five." He replied, watching her get up and stretch before she crossed the room and poked her head out the door to see if anyone was around, finding the coast clear. "You want to head down and have breakfast soon?"

She paused at the question. Truthfully she'd enjoy nothing more, however this facade she was presenting might make it a little odd. Outside this room she wasn't speaking English and aside from a handful of phrases and more colourful words over the years he had learned from her Phil didn't speak Spanish. It was an oversight that hadn't occurred to her until now and she was kicking herself for it.

Phil seemed to reach the same conclusion, unable to help it as his face fell just that little bit. Knowing she wanted to keep up the facade of Nova for a while this was going to be trickier than he first thought. "Guess it's a no, huh?"

Glumly he stared at his hands before she caught his eye again with a smile that grew to be more conspiratorial. "For now at least." Imogen answered, "But nothing says we can't sneak out after the shows and find a quiet place to have dinner."

At this he perked up, sharing that mischievous look. While 'Nova' had some drawbacks, the idea that he was the _only_ wrestler on the roster to know who was under the mask seemed like a tasty secret. It almost gave it some sort comic book feel, she with the secret identity and he the one who was trusted enough to share it with. "Alright, Cal. Sounds like a plan." He replied with a yawn, still wanting a bit more sleep before they all finally had to move on to their next destination.

* * *

Vince McMahon wandered around the arena, watching people around him moving with purpose as they did their various jobs setting the place up for Raw that night. A sense of pride welled up within him as he watched various crews taking on their jobs. The lighting crew busy with the rigging that was high above the ring crews, the pyrotechnics teams setting up the fireworks needed for various superstar entrances, sound guys, stylists medical teams, the list was endless. Eventually he found himself on top of the stage, noting various wrestlers hanging out here and there when he spotted Nova in the stands sitting along side Sin Cara. He watched their conversation and wondered for a moment how well the two would work in a mixed tag match with such similar styles. He filed the idea away when someone approached behind him and stop perhaps a foot or two away.

"I know who she is, Vince."

"So, she told you." He replied, the chairman turned around to look at his current champion who's face was a mask of neutrality. "I wondered how quickly it would be."

"We've been friends for over ten years." Phil replied as a smirk tugged at his mouth. Taking the last few steps he stood side by side with McMahon and looked up at the two high flyers, "You honestly thought she wouldn't?"

"No, it was something of a certainty. I think it'll be good that at least one person knows who's under that mask." They both stood there for a minute, neither saying anything to the other as they surveyed their surroundings.

"Tell me something..." Phil began, "Is it going to be her choice or yours as to when the mask comes off?"

"Hers." Vince answered, having a decent guess as to what the younger man was thinking. "It _will_ come off, I can guarantee you that, but only when she says so." He watched his champion, finger idly rubbing against his chin as he thought the answer over. "It was her decision to come back, Brooks, no-one forced her into it. We didn't even know she was Nova until Jim went down to Mexico."

He seemed satisfied with the answer, but something else still plagued him. "What about Bennett?"

"I've been wondering about that myself, actually." The old man mused, sharing Punk's slight sense of apprehension about it. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see. For the moment whatever cross brand rivalries concerning him will be kept to a minimum. With his current angle involving Danielson and the World Championship there's no reason to bring him to Raw anyway." The two of them turned from the stage, leaving the duo up in the stands undisturbed. Vince thought it was good to see someone else aside from Oscar, Alberto or Jesús for Luis to be able to talk to.

"So just how many other people know she's... you know." Punk paused as some people walked by them.

"Just Ross." Vince said quietly, "He was stunned to say the least when I sent him down there to scout talent and bought it straight to me. Initially she knocked the idea back, that was almost twelve months a go." He seemed to pause as something else occurred to him,"You know, the fact that she didn't tell you when she first started getting in the ring again surprises me."

Phil simply shrugged, "We had been keeping in contact, I even knew she was doing something in wrestling again, but she never told me what exactly."

"Hmm." Vince was lost in thought for a moment before moving on, "Well whatever the reason it's apparently helped her to move on, so we should just leave it at that. Now if you'll excuse me, I have business to take care of."

* * *

Tonight Nova was to be pitted against Natalya, a match demanded by the Queen of Harts. It was something Natalya was looking forward to, it had been a while since she had gone up against someone who could match her in strength that wasn't Beth, not to mention the whole high flyer aspect. Nova would indeed be a challenge but if the rumours were true then she could count on the new comer to compete fairly unless provoked otherwise... like what Victoria had done last week.

As if merely thinking about the Divas champion could conjure her, Victoria appeared at the gorilla position looking ever inch the haughty snob she was. She would be sitting ringside doing guest commentary with Michael and Jerry, then when the match was over she was to unsuccessfully attempt to take Nova by surprise. After a short scuffle with Nova coming out on top she was to end it with something that would leave a statement with the champion. What the spot would be though no-one could say for sure other than Vince wanted something memorable.

A few minutes later the third of their number finally showed up, seemingly parting ways with the WWE Champion. As she turned around the warm smile she had shown Phil faded a fraction while still being polite to Nattie and not even bothering to acknowledge Victoria's presence. Neidhart couldn't help but wonder what afforded Punk such warm camaraderie from someone none of them knew. Or maybe he did know her, he had spent years on the independent circuit and met all kinds of people in his travels. The music that announced Alicia Fox started up, making Natalya put aside her musings for now and focus on the task at hand.

"Look who we have joining us at ringside, King!" Cole grinned as Alicia took her seat next to him before piling praises on her some more.

"Come to scout out the new threat to your title I see." Jerry smirked.

"Nova just got lucky last week, Jerry." Alicia replied, more than a little defensively. "It'll take more than what she has to take the title from around my waist. Besides..." she paused for a second as Natalya was introduced before continuing with a smirk of superiority. "She wont even make it past Neidhart."

"You may want to keep your words soft and sweet, Alicia." Lawler said, using one of his trademark quotes. "You shouldn't count her out after last week."

Alicia continued to play up her part as the heel which was easy for her to do, all she had to do was let her true self come out. A slightly edited version of Saki Kaskas' '_Callista_' started up and a few moments later Nova appeared. Once both competitors were in the ring and ready the match was under way.

Phil was out back watching the action on a monitor alongside Mike and Cody. He had always enjoyed the matches between the two women, the chemistry they had working with or against each other was a rare thing. Idly he wondered if Nattie would ever figure out just who Nova was before the inevitable unmasking... whenever that would be. The match unfolded to be fairly even on both sides, After Nova's initial burst of dizzying offence Nattie got a few of her dirty tricks in to play up her role as the heel and began working on the high flyer's lower back to set up for the Sharpshooter. A few minutes more and Natalya's gloating cost her as Nova got a second wind, turning the tables with a sliding leg trip from a rebound off the ropes.

He grinned a little as Nova sprung to her feet, a la an HBK kip up, as Neidhart found her feet only to be assaulted with a flurry of kicks that ended with a standing drop kick to the chest. Scrambling for the cover Natalya barely got her shoulder up in time leaving her opponent wonder what she had to do next. After going back and forth a few more times She finally found the opening needed for that spectacular DDT, which Cole still didn't have a name for. After the bell rang however was when things started to fall apart...

Taking off her headset the champion slid into the ring as the ref held Nova's arm up in victory, but instead of simply tackling her like the plan was supposed to go Victoria blasted her with the belt; angry that this woman had made a fool out of her last week but had made Nattie come off looking like the tough competitor she was. Dazed and confused it took Nova a second or tow to catch on just what the Divas champ was trying to do next- attempting to expose who Nova was to the world.

A surge of fear and anger washed over her, every wrestler knew what being unmasked meant to a practitioner of luche libre. Seizing one of her arms Imogen pulled her off but didn't let go, right hand balling into a fist and threw it with authority, winding her would be attacker. Trembling with rage she looked down as Victoria gasped for air; if she wanted the throw the rule book out the window then Imogen was happy to oblige. Sliding out the ring she began to search before pulling something out, a malevolent sneer fixed in place as she found a table and set it up.

Victoria struggled to get air into her lungs as she slowly made it to her knees, her eyes went wide when she saw just what the other woman had in mind for retribution. Sensing her prey was attempting to escape Imogen slid under the bottom rope and grabbed a fistful of hair, hauling her to standing. "You want the kid gloves to come off, Crawford? You got it!" She snarled, almost like a feral beast. "Just remember, everything that comes after this is all on you."

Herding her to the outside of the ring she levelled the champion again with a savage clothesline then finally setting her up on the table and climbed back in the ring for a third time. Taking a second to judge the distance she charged, not caring what the consequences were going to be after this as she leaped from the top rope and into another Stars Fall, sending both of them crashing through the cheap timber.

Back in the locker room a few voices echoed the sentiments of the crowd's 'holy shit' chant. They were used to seeing and sending each other through the occasional table, but _never_ had they even thought of any of the women doing it. Phil stood up and left without a word, trying to keep the concern gnawing at him from showing on his face as he went to medical as calmly as he could. That was _not_ something the Imogen he used to know would have done, and he began to wonder just what else she was now capable of doing not only to her opponents but herself in order to achieve it.

* * *

_There we go kiddies! Also, it's 'contest for a giggle' time! I have a few names floating around for what I can all Imogen's finisher but before I decide on anything I want to throw it out there to see if you guys and gals can think of. If it can beat my musings (which I can assure you are all very generic at this point) I'll use that instead!_

_Now here's the part where you be really nice and fill in the box below... please? With chocolate sprinkles on top? You know you want to!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Borderlands 2 and the World of Warcraft expansion dropped within a space of a week from each other... so yeah, that's what I have been/am doing. Though In hindsight the idea of levelling 11 more WoW toons from 85-90 is going to lose it's novelty really quickly (the amount of EXP needed to get there is bloody ridiculous!)._

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Punk almost seemed to freeze as he came within mere feet from the trainer's door, unsure if going in was a smart idea or not. On one hand he wanted to see if Imogen was really alright, despite the fact she had managed to stand up on her own from the wreckage of the table and walk it off in front of thousands. The other dictated she might not take it well, having already witnessed a glimpse of the length she would go to to protect her identity. Shackled by his own indecision he was barely aware of Vince's approach from the other direction.

"Wait there." The old man all but growled, he was most certainly not amused. He then knocked on the door and opened it barely giving those on the opposite side time to answer. Without even having to say anything to him the doctor took his leave, confident in the knowledge that aside from a couple of small scrapes the new girl was fine. When the door closed again a silence descended on wrestler and promoter for a minute. "What the hell was that?" Vince finally asked, unable to get a read on the young woman in front of him.

Her reply was blunt and to the point. "Your memorable moment as well as a personal statement. I wont tolerate anyone trying to pull this off, Vince." Imogen said with a finger pointing at the sparkling mask.

He fought the urge to lose his temper. "I understand where you're coming from, Campbell, but let me make this perfectly clear. I will not have _any_ of my wrestlers using the ring to carry out personal vendettas." He tried to gauge her silent response, but being unable to see over half her face he found it impossible. "Next time either one of you doesn't follow the plan I'll have you both suspended. Are we clear?"

"Crystal." The even line her lips pressed into told him she wasn't thrilled with the idea, but wasn't exactly about to jump on him for it. "It wont happen again, Mr McMahon."

"Good. Brooks is waiting outside failing tremendously at looking inconspicuous. If you want to hide for a while longer I suggest you work something out with him, and do it quickly." With that he left to go and see just what they were doing with Victoria, she was going to get the same warning as well, if she was even coherent enough for it to sink in. They had to help her not only to her feet but also up the ramp and out of the spotlight.

Imogen fought the urge to face-palm; of course Phil would be worried, why wouldn't he be? This wasn't like her as far as he knew, or at least it wasn't like the old her. Following the old man's lead she to left the first aid station, eyes coming to rest on a worried Phil. Vince was right, he really was failing at trying to play it cool. Taking a quick glance around she found them well enough alone and seized the opportunity before someone showed up. "Room 136 after the show. Feel free to chew me out then if you want." She said, "And stop looking like you're about to freak out, I'm perfectly fine, I promise."

He took a breath and rolled his shoulders, relieved to see that she at least looked uninjured in any significant way. His attempt to calm down seemed to succeed more when she gave him a quick pat on the arm and wandered off, right hand rubbing at her left shoulder as she went. They really did have to work something out, if that was going to be a common occurrence he would need to find a way to deal with it and trust that she knew what she was doing. Making his way back to the locker room he bought his mind back to focusing on his match tonight; it was going to be the start of a heel run for him on the grounds that he was feeling as though he wasn't getting the respect the WWE Champion should be entitled to. Punk smirked a little to himself, it had been a long time since he had played the bad guy and was looking forward to it, he found being a heel a lot more fun.

When he got there Phil found he wasn't alone, the huge muscular man mountain Ryan 'Ryback' Reeves was finishing packing up his gear having gone toe to toe with Matt Bloom, otherwise known as Tensai, earlier in the night. "Where did you head off to?" He asked casually.

Phil shrugged nonchalantly, "Just went to get some water."

Pale blue eyes studied the champion a while longer has he checked the tape around his hands and then tugged at the bright yellow coverings of his boots, not believing the answer at all. A man looking that concerned after what they had witnessed on the monitor and abruptly leaving like that was not merely heading off for a drink. He knew the man didn't care much -if at all- for the Diva's champion, so he doubted he was rushing off to check up on her and the only person who had managed to have a decent conversation with Nova had been Luis. It wasn't his place to question it though so he left it alone for now, wondering what Punk knew that the rest of them did not.

"There you are, I wondered where you wandered off to." John Cena grinned as he entered the room, "Our match should be starting soon, you wanna head out now?"

Phil agreed and they headed off in silence, John stealing a sideways glance at his tag partner for tonight and noting he seemed a little preoccupied. While they weren't best friends they got along and liked each other well enough to the point where he knew something was bugging the Chicago native. "Earth to Brooks, do you read me?"

"Huh?"

"You looked like you're off in your own little world, you sure you're head is in the match tonight?"

"I'll be fine, Cena." He assured the other man. Was he really letting his game face slip so much? There used to be a time where you'd have a better chance of getting tell tale signs from a rock than from CM Punk. The look in John's eyes clearly said that he didn't believe him, "Alright, the whole table stunt was a little... surprising. Never really seen that sort of thing before, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." He was still a little shocked as it was to. But Phil had been on the independent circuit for years before arriving here and had seen all sorts of crazy things that unknowns would do to get their names out there. "You heard anything from Imogen lately?"

Phil refrained from the suspicious look he wanted to shoot in John's direction over the innocent question. The man knew that the two had been keeping in contact over the years and last they had spoken the woman was travelling around Mexico. Doing what exactly Punk had never said. "Heard from her last week, actually." He replied, "Things are going well."

"Good to hear." Cena commented, more to himself than to Phil. As they reached the gorilla position they stood once more in silence for a while, each man alone with his own thoughts. "You know, Raw is heading toward the border in a couple of weeks for a house show. If she happens to be nearby it'd be nice for a catch up." The sceptical look on the champion's face made him quickly tack on a little extra to his statement, "If she's up for it of course. I know I'm not the only one that would be happy to say hi."

It was true of course- Beth, Nattie, Tony and Cody had often asked him to give Imogen their well wishes on occasion. Even Barbie once in a while had asked how her former rival was faring. Perhaps it would be good for them all if something could be arranged. "I'll talk to Cal after the show, see what she thinks about it."

It was the best John was going to get so he accepted it for what it was. There had been a time or two when the company would go abroad, but it seemed the elusive former Diva was always one step ahead and out of reach. It had been disappointing for him, he had enjoyed her company a lot when she had first come to Raw, but he knew how much more it had to have hurt Phil to know she had once again slipped through his fingers. He never showed it of course, but he knew the feeling was there.

The pair were joined by their opponents for the night, Nick Nemeth and Mike Mizanin. A few minutes later Alberto was the first man to come back from behind the curtain closely followed by Jesús, having lost to Brian Danielson as they competed for the contender's spot for the World title. When the ring was finally cleared Mike was the first to go followed by Nick, When Cena's theme started he gave the champ a quick grin, "Not sure if kicking me in the head is going to make people hate you, but I would like as small of a headache as possible tonight." With that he ducked out to the ever present mixed reaction from the WWE universe.

Phil shook his head and smirked, tonight was going to be fun...

* * *

Punk rolled his shoulder, trying to work out the ache that currently resided there as he casually strolled down the hotel hallway. The match went well, Punk receiving a mixed reaction that both men had expected to his apparent betrayal of Cena after delivering his trademark high kick to the head when John went to use Punk's own finisher against Ziggler. When he got back stage he had discovered Imogen hadn't stuck around, then realised this was more than likely going to be the usual MO for a while. The less time she hung around with others the more time it would take anyone to figure it out who Nova was. As he reached his destination he quickly glanced around, making sure there was no-one else around before knocking.

Imogen opened her door to find her hooded best friend, standing aside she let him in with a smile. "Evening. I picked up some dinner before I got back here, hope you don't mind."

He simply grinned when he saw the small layout of Subway, "Mind? I'm starving!" Helping themselves to the sandwiches they sat on the floor at the end of the bed in silence for a while as they watched one of the late night talk shows. Eventually Phil decided to talk about the elephant in the room. "So," He started casually between bites of his meal, "What the hell were you thinking out there tonight?"

Imogen washed down her roast beef and salad sub with a mouth full of juice before answering. "Anger mostly... a little fear on the side. I could only imagine the reaction if she had managed to succeed in pulling it off."

"Alright, I think I can understand that..." He replied, "But why the table?" She didn't answer and could barely even look at him even before it clicked. "Oh for the love of... Cal... It isn't because she's-"

"Would it matter either way?" She interrupted, not wanting to hear the end of what he was saying.

"A lot changes in three years."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious. Any other pearls of wisdom?"

The almost icy tone in which she said it was a warning- drop it. With a sigh he complied, the hour was to late to start arguing any way. They watched David Letterman rattle of his top ten list before he remembered Cena's question from earlier in the night. "John said the show is heading toward the border in a couple of week."

"House show, I won't be there."

"I know _Nova_ won't be there." He corrected, "But it would be nice if Imogen showed up. Especially after the dodges you did in Europe."

Imogen opened her mouth for a rebuttal but immediately shut it again, he had her dead to rights on that one. She owed him for that and they both knew it. Part of her had wanted to go when the WWE had been on its European tours but fear had kept her away and on the run; fear of being noticed by the fans and worse by her former colleagues and friends. Worst of all was the fear of the stares she just knew were waiting backstage, even now. Looking over at her open luggage one of her masks sparkled in the light; it was the only thing standing between her and those same looks of judgement and wondered not for the first time if she could actually ever bring herself to remove it, despite saying to McMahon that she would.

He watched her as she thought it over, following her gaze then back again and wondered just what she was thinking. She had never been this closed off to him before and his own words seemed to almost taunt him, _'A lot changes in three years.'_. "Come on, Cal." He urged with a surprising gentleness in his voice, "They really miss you."

She knew he was right and in truth she had also missed them. Cody, Nattie and Beth were like the siblings she had always wanted but never had. Tony, ever the jester, could make even the surliest person laugh at the drop of a hat and John... he was just a fun guy to be around. "Alright, Punkster, I'll head down there. I won't go to the show but there is a place I know that would be great to play reunion at."

He grinned in triumph for his small victory, hopefully this could be seen as one small step on getting her out from behind that mask sooner rather than later.


	5. Chapter 5

**May 14****th****, 2013.**

Four weeks had passed after Imogen had agreed to head down to where the Raw house show was taking place. She had arrived in town the day before, a place she had been to on a few occasions when the AAA would occasionally cross the border, Phil having given her the name of the hotel he had booked at. Both woke up early the next morning, Imogen, who had been up before he was, met him in a local park across the road and the pair set out for a jog to get the day started. The last leg became something of a race, both of them sprinting for the last fifty meters or so for the hotel door, the loser having to pay for breakfast.

"Damn, Cal." Phil panted as they both took a minute to catch their breath, "How did your slow ass get so fast?"

She lightly clipped him under the ear as she replied. "Maybe you're just losing a step in your old age."

"_Old_? There's only four years difference between us!" He shot back.

"Whatever." She said with a nonchalant wave of her hand, "It's still not getting you out of buying breakfast."

The wise ass banter went back and forth as they crossed the lobby toward the elevators, each trying to out do the other's insults. With a chime the doors slid open, the grin on Imogen's face fading as a responding remark died in her throat when two familiar faces showed themselves on the other side. Standing there, just as stunned, was Stu; hand in hand with the current Diva's champion. Victoria was the first to recover from the shock that seemed to envelope the small space around the elevator as they stepped out, her look of surprise evolving into a triumphant smirk that the man beside her couldn't see. She made a small show of their couple status, the hand hold becoming firmer as she leaned in closer to the Englishman. If anyone actually noticed her at all, however, they certainly weren't showing it.

If any of them looked any more visibly shell shocked than Imogen did it was Bennett; as suddenly as she had disappeared from his life the woman materialised just as abruptly from out of nowhere like a wraith. At first he couldn't believe it was the same person; the hair was to short for a start, not to mention the raven black with the mass of streaks was the wrong colour. But all it took was one look into those dark, almost cobalt blue eyes and his denial shattered. He had loved those eyes once, more than words could ever hope to express. Now they unleashed a torrent of conflicting emotions within him, threatening to send him hurtling back into the sea of abandonment, anger and confusion he had been thrown into when Imogen had left the way she had.

Phil looked from one to the other, his mind racing; he needed to get Imogen out and fast. He was literally saved by the bell as the second elevator's arrival sounded off and he all but dragged her into it while blindly hitting the buttons for a floor, it didn't matter which so long as it moved. The few seconds it took for the doors to close seemed like an agonising eternity before the automated steel ended the surprise confrontation. With a deep sigh one hand rand over his shaved head, giving the highlighted buttons a quick glace before pushing the correct one for their floor then looked over at the woman beside him. She had completely retreated within herself and trying to get a read on whatever was going through her mind right now was like trying to crack a stone with a toothpick.

God dammit... this wasn't how the day was supposed to go.

The elevator ride was slow going as it stopped at several floors for the buttons Phil had randomly mashed before finally arriving on theirs. The rooms they had were adjacent with his being closer to the elevator. Swiping his key card the reader beeped as it unlock the door and he promptly pushed it open, gently pulling Imogen in behind him. Stu's appearance had been a surprise to both of them, there had been nothing to indicate any of the Smackdown roster would be here tonight.

Imogen slowly walked over to his bed and sat down with elbows resting on her knees, staring vacantly at her hands. He refrained from sighing again as he sat down next to her and took one of Imogen's hands in his own."Cal... Talk to me, this silent retreat isn't you."

"I'll be fine, Punkster." Imogen replied after taking a moment to regain her composure. Looking at him she couldn't help but smile a little at his genuine concern, he seemed forever playing the role of big brother. "It was just a shock actually seeing them together like that without warning."

He seemed to accept the explanation and eventually released her hand, a companionable silence falling between them for a time before he spoke again. "You still have feelings for him, don't you?"

"I feel..." She trailed off, unable to find the right words to describe the confusion in her heart. With a deep sigh Imogen eventually gave up, "I don't know what I feel about Stu any more."

"Well you know where to find me if you need to figure it out. Same goes for Colt too."

"I know, it's what makes both of you the best in the world." She grinned at him as she stole his own trademark catchphrase and he returned it. She stood up, heading for the door that separated their rooms. "I'm gonna go have a shower and get changed. Then, since you're footing the bill, I'm getting the biggest breakfast ever."

"You glutton." Punk replied, "Just remember to save some room for lunch later on."

* * *

As time ticked closer to the lunch date Imogen took off slightly earlier, Phil having to round everyone up before heading down to the restaurant. Approaching the girl behind the counter Imogen gave the young woman her name that their table had been booked under, then was shown to the large setting that had been reserved for them. It was a small Chinese place she had been to once or twice and made the best honey chicken and garlic prawn dishes she had ever had. As far as she was concerned it had been way to long since she had tasted either meal. Maybe she could convince Phil to get one while she ordered the other, then proceed to steal the occasional morsel off his plate...

She ordered a drink while she waited, condensation beading along the glass of ice cold Pepsi and began to soak into the thick cardboard coaster underneath. She was about half way through it when the door opened again to a bustle of about four people walking in and heading out to the counter. Before Phil could even give Imogen's name Natalya had been scoping the room out and almost squealed in giddy excitement. "Oh my god, you're really here!" Pushing the chair out Imogen barely had enough time to stand up straight before the Canadian attacked her with an exuberant hug.

"Nattie. Can't... breathe." Imogen dramatically gasped, causing the other woman to release her, only to be held at arms length. Allowing Natalya's bubbly mood to encompass her Imogen grinned, "Hi."

"Hi?" Nattie repeated almost incredulously, "I haven't seen hid nor hair of you for three years, and all you have to say is 'hi'?"

"Would you prefer 'greetings and salutations' instead?"

It took a second but it finally clicked that she was stirring the proverbial pot. "You smart ass." She replied, "Do you know how much I've missed that dry sense of humour?"

"Stop hogging the woman of the hour, Nat." Beth said as she came up behind the pair, exchanging her own hug with Imogen. "It's great to finally see you again, girl."

"Likewise." Looking over the Glamazon's shoulder she saw Phil and John bringing up the rear and smiled, disentangling herself from the former champion. John seemed a little unsure at first, not knowing if she would even allow him the same informality for his own friendly embrace. His unspoken question was answered when Imogen hugged him warmly, "Good to see you as well, super hero."

"You to, Imogen." John grinned, his eyes looking up at the striking display that was her hair. "I like it, it seems suits you."

"Thanks. Though to be honest I'm half tempted to shave it all off again. It's at that annoying stage where it gets in front of my eyes if I don't have half a can of hair spray in it."

"Now that all the initial emotional reunions are out of the way," Phil interrupted, "can we finally sit down and have something to eat?"

"Just cause you get to talk to her whenever you want..." Natalya quipped as she attempted to playfully slap him up the side of his head.

"Hardly." He scoffed, taking a seat as the others did. "You know how notorious she is at not calling people back, and that's if her phone is on in the first place."

"Always fun to see a running commentary on oneself when people talk as though you're not sitting at the same table."

Just like that the old familiar feeling of camaraderie settled over the table like no time had passed at all. The relaxed casual air was akin to wearing your favourite pair of comfortable, well worn pants; it simply felt good. As they talked and laughed over good food and drink, Imogen felt herself thinking about several things and slowly disengaged from the majority of the conversation, content to simply listen in as her friends talked and argued ever a variety of subjects. Two things dominated her train of thought; the first being a surprising notion that as the hour slipped by a notion to confess to the table that she had been with them on the road for over a month now began to grow. The second was more of a personal nature as her mind again taunted her with the image of Stu and Victoria together. Despite herself she couldn't help the fleeting grimace that flashed over her face, she suddenly didn't feel so hungry any more.

"You OK, Cal?" Punk asked casually, having kept an eye on her the past five minutes or so.

"Yeah, just a little full is all." She replied while pushing the plate away, "Must've been that big breakfast I had."

He simply shook his head, "Keep talking, you simply got lucky this morning is all."

She chuckled before taking a sip of her drink, slipping back into her musings. In the end she couldn't hold it in, and if this moment was anything to go by then the world had shown her that there was still a few people left that were worthy of placing her fragile trust. "Guys, I have something important to tell you." Four pairs of eyes locked onto her, three of them curious, "The new Diva that showed up last April... The luchadora..."

"What about her?" John inquired, wondering where this was going or what possible tie Imogen had to it.

"It's me." She replied after taking in a big breath, there was no turning back now. "I'm Nova."

* * *

It was five am, the lights reflected off mirrors that lined the walls of the gym as the only sound to be heard was the punishment of a lone punching bag being mercilessly worked over. Rapid fire strikes occasionally broke up the steady tattoo of timed, precise kicks. Trying to focus solely on the instruction she had picked up during her travels, Imogen attempted to block out the world beyond this room. When that started to fail she settled the look of on each of her friends faces when she divulged to them Nova's identity and how they swore it would go no further than the table in a Chinese restaurant.

In the end the recalled memories and lessons as she pummelled the bag just wasn't enough as the scene at the elevator refused to be denied. She had heard the rumours and even gotten confirmation out of a reluctant Punk, but there was nothing quite like seeing for herself Stu hand in hand with quite possibly the biggest bitch working in the WWE today.

The image was corrosive, eating away at a raw nerve causing her to lash out at the bag again with every iota of strength and anger that was left. It swung back like an oversized pendulum before arcing back and meeting the opposite fist, the impact jarring and making her knuckles ache despite the padding on the gloves she wore, Imogen embracing the sensation as blow after blow hammered home. Gone was the cool discipline from mere moments before as more primal feelings to often kept on a short leash finally won out until muscles burned in protest, aching and sore before they forced her to stop. Sweat trickled down the contours of exposed well toned skin freely, shoulders rising and falling in time with her heavy breathing, body greedily gulping down air from the intense and sudden exertion she had just put it through. Crossing the room and slumping down on a bench she stared morosely at the floor as sweat dripped from her damp hair and onto the hardwood below. Picking up a small towel beside her, Imogen wiped down the damp, hot skin of her face and sighed; in truth she knew she had no right to be angry at all.

It had been her decision to leave, to run instead of working through her problems, but the fact that Stu had wound up in the clutches of that... _succubus_... infuriated her. She would've even preferred Barbie over Victoria, which in itself was ironic considering she once threatened the woman with physical harm over the issue. Pulling off the thick gloves she examined her knuckles, the skin over them tender and red. Slowly her hands tightly clenched into fists as she desperately clung to her anger, irrational as it was, as another emotion loomed over her; she had sworn to herself the day she left that she was done shedding tears. Imogen would be damned if she would allow herself to ever again become that fragile and weak creature she had been.

"I can only imagine who you were picturing that bag was."

Her head shot up at the familiar voice to see Stu standing in the doorway at the far side and stiffened, not knowing just what to do. By the look on his face neither did he as an awkward air settled over the room. "Hello, Stu. You look... well." She finally said with some difficulty. What do you say to someone you once loved more than anyone and haven't seen in three years? Imogen had no idea.

He watched as she slowly stood up with a cautious air, not knowing what to expect. In all honesty he didn't know either, he didn't even know why he had stayed to watch as Imogen had her back to him and beat the life out of the punching bag. The fact was this woman was the very reason he was even up before the birds were, ever since the surprise appearance at the elevator old feelings had dragged themselves out of whatever rock he had managed to keep them pinned under. "Thanks. You look... different." He finally replied with the same amount of awkwardness, unable to articulate anything beyond that without the risk of coming across like a raving lunatic. Part of him wanted to yell, scream and vent all the hurt she had caused him by leaving. Another part of him wanted to know what he could have possibly have done wrong to drive her off without either a chance to defend his actions or talk the problem out. All the while under all these swirling mental arguments was something that he clamped down on and locked away; there was no way he wanted to go down that road again.

It felt uncomfortable standing under his gaze and she couldn't help but fidget, her left foot scuffing along the floor as her eyes started darting around the room. She knew sooner or later they would've have come face to face but she never expected it to be so soon or it simply being a chance encounter. Every fibre in her being was screaming at her to bolt but, whether by intention or not, he was still standing between herself and the only way out. Slowly Imogen inched her way closer to the door while also trying to keep a measurable distance from him. "Well, I should get going."

He didn't move for what felt like an eternity then slowly unfolded his arms and stepped aside, his face unreadable. With a little insecure jerk she darted past him, feeling those green eyes on the back of her head. Imogen halted, her head turned slightly over her shoulder. "For what it's worth... I'm sorry."


	6. Chapter 6

**Monday Night Raw: July 1st, 2013.**

It had been two months since the meet up at the Raw house show and with Imogen's identity firmly known by three other people things became a little easier travelling on the road. While by and large Nova was still silent the majority of the time, the language barrier was slowly coming down in the form of heavily accented English. Natalya in particular found it a joy to know just who she was in the ring with once again and, despite the significant change in Imogen's wrestling style, easily adapted to it. Before long it felt just like old times as they were pitted against one another when Nova wasn't busy dealing with the growing rivalry between herself and the Divas Champion, which was becoming something in itself.

It wasn't long before the fans divined that there was a genuine animosity between the two that extended beyond a simple storyline. What it was though had everyone guessing, even the champ herself. As the weeks passed Nova slowly began acting like she knew the champion far better than she ought to, given her short time in the company.

That night a cowled and almost ring ready Nova appeared in the doorway of the occupied women's locker room, giving a quick look around as to who was in before crossing over to a vacant space and dropping her bag next to the bench. Natalya and Beth were at the opposite end and had been going over tonight's match they had with each other before looking over and giving the masked sensation a warm smile, which was returned in kind. On the opposite side of the room Victoria and Eve were talking quietly to themselves, but the current champion couldn't help but notice the familiarity in the small interaction the other three just shared. With a subtle jerk of her head after pointedly looking in the direction of their co-workers Torres fell in step behind her friend as they left for a stroll through the building.

"Is it just me, or do Niedhart and Kocianski seem to know something about Nova that we don't?"

"They have been rather chummy," Eve agreed, "Same with Punk. Even Cena has been getting in on it."

They walked further down the hall, coming to a stop near the end of it. Leaning against the wall Victoria glanced around the corner, making sure that they were well enough alone. "I bet you anything they know who she is."

"I've been thinking that as well." Eve suddenly smirked, "Next thing you'll be telling me that it's Campbell under that mask."

The Divas champ scoffed at the idea. "After that whole thing with Shane... It doesn't matter if her identity wasn't disclosed to media, there's no way she'd come back here."

Eve noticed the hint of a defensive edge on her friend's words and wondered what it was about. Victoria had told her of the unexpected run in with Imogen down at the house show and had complained that ever since Stu had been somewhat distracted and a little detached. To Crawford, Stu was really nothing more than some sort of status symbol- he, the current World Champion, seemed to be little more than accessory to compliment her own title reign. It had been easy to sink her claws into him after Imogen had simply vanished, leaving him in an emotionally vulnerable state.

Before she could ask just what Victoria's problem was they were interrupted by a messenger, his attention on the champ, "Vince would like to see you."

Crawford arched a finely sculpted brow, "What about?"

"The Divas title."

With an impatient sigh, like she was reluctantly doing the guy a huge favour, the champion set off for the boss' office. Hearing the gruff answer to her knock she went inside to find the person who had become the biggest pain in the ass since she had arrived nearly four months a go. Nova leaned casually back against the wall with arms crossed, ever present hood hiding the top half of her face whenever the mask was absent, a ghosting smirk the only thing acknowledging the other woman's presence. Victoria's eyes narrowed instinctively with suspicion, doubting she was going to like the way this meeting was going to go.

"Good, you're here," Vince said, not bothering to offer either of them a seat. "We've been watching this feud develop over the past couple of months, and the fans seem to be reacting favourably to it. So with Summer-Slam coming up next month we're scheduling a title match. Victoria, since you've held the belt since Wrestlemania we're going to have you drop the title to Nova."

Victoria knew better than to voice the vehement tantrum like protest that simply begged to be voiced, and almost gave in to it when that insufferable smirk on Nova's face became more pronounced. She must have known what Vince had decided before she had even walked in here. She had just about enough of whoever she was and that annoyingly familiar, arrogant grin made Crawford want to march across and rip the light cotton hood off and expose her.

Vince looked between the pair, judging their reactions. To say Crawford wasn't happy would be a mild understatement, and if the goading look Imogen was eyeing her with had been a knife then he could envision the sadistic enjoyment she would've gotten from twisting it in even further. He refrained from sighing, knowing an eye would have to be kept on these two. Ever since they had gotten their respective warnings they had kept the hostilities to a point where even though he knew what they were up to, it wasn't bad enough to warrant suspending either of them for unprofessional conduct. He knew full well that this was a potential powder keg, he just had to keep a close eye on the fuse.

"That will be all for now, so both of you go get ready for your mixed tag match tonight."

Prominently dismissed Victoria went one way to find her partner for the night while Imogen went the opposite and returned to the locker room to find everyone had left, so taking the chance while it was there she zipped open her bag and promptly frowned. She knew for a fact she packed it... so where was her mask? Digging deeper through her gear a rising panic crept over her, fighting a nauseous urge to throw up creeping up the back of her throat; it was definitely gone. Two questions buzzed through her brain- one, who the hell had gone through her bag while she was gone, and second, just what the hell was she going to do without it? With a growl she threw the bag into the nearest locker space and stalked out of the room to find her partner for the night, maybe between the two of them they could figure something out.

Eve crept out of the shower area once she heard the locker room door slam shut, wearing her own devious, up-to-no-good smirk. It was time to teach the newbie just who ruled the roost around this locker room.

* * *

"_Luis!"_

Luis Alvirde spun around at the hushed but almost frantic tone in which his name was called, only to find his tag partner for the night coming straight for him. It was blatantly obvious something was wrong as Nova grasped him by the arm and pulled him aside, her hooded head looking from one side to the other to make sure no-one else was within earshot. "_Someone has taken my mask for tonight and I don't have any spare ones with me._"

This was indeed a problem, having learned over the past few months of just how protective she was over her identity there was no way she would go out in the ring without it. One of his arms crossed his chest as Luis stroked his chin while he thought for a moment, there had to be a way around this. The longer he stayed silent the more fidgety Nova became as she began to anxiously wring her hands. Suddenly he was struck by an idea, not only would it let Nova compete but also bring a look of unity to their team. "_Wait here and I'll be back in a few minutes._"

Curious as to what he had in mind she simply nodded, watching as he retreated down the hall and disappeared around a corner. With a heavy sigh Imogen's mind returned to her original problem- the thief who had gone through her belongings and nicked her mask. To be honest there were only a select few suspects to choose from, but without concrete proof it would simply be finger pointing and he said/she said accusations. Frustrated, she began to pace, when she did find out exactly who it was they'd be lucky if she didn't break their fingers for this transgression...

Before she could slip to far in the savage thoughts Luis had returned, a blue and silver object in his hand, "_Here,_" he said as he passed it to her, "_See if it fits properly._"

Imogen looked from what he had given her and back into his reassuring eyes, "_Are you sure?_"

"_Of course, I wouldn't have done it otherwise._"

Words couldn't truly express the relief that flooded through her; he didn't have to, but Luis had safely pulled her ass out of the fire. Who knows what the consequences would have been if he hadn't done a bit of quick thinking. "_Thank you._"

He returned the smile, "_No problem. Hopefully you can find who took yours and get it back._"

"_Oh, I will,_" Imogen replied, and getting her property back wouldn't be the only thing she would do...

* * *

Alicia Fox sauntered alongside a recently-turned-heel Randy Orton, a familiar sparkling item in her hand as she climbed through the ropes Orton held open for her. If Nova was destined to take her title, then she was going to find out just who was under the mask and expose her to the world. She smirked as she held the mask high and paraded around the ring, wondering just what her opponent was going to do now that she had her little security blanket.

Sin Cara's music started and within moments the arrogant stride Alicia had all but disappeared as both opponents atop the stage were masked. Nova stood tall as she sported one of Sin Cara's own masks, her silver over blue colours mirroring his own blue over silver. They looked down at the ring then at one another before charging down the ramp side by side, executing their synchronised entry into the ring as she sprang high and he dived low, both spring-boarding off the ropes to finish their little display of agility and finesse.

As Randy and Alicia climbed back onto the apron Sin Cara turned to his partner, "_Are you sure you want to start first?_"

Even though he couldn't see it, he new that she was looking past him and focused solely on the Divas champion, sporting that predatory grin she was known for as she replied.

"_Without a shadow of a doubt. She'll learn what it means to mess with a mask..."_


	7. Chapter 7

The champ couldn't quite believe that her rival had found a way around the problem Eve had created as she stared into the silver mesh covered eyes of the blue mask that was usually Sin Cara's trademark. There was something menacing about the other woman's stance and the slight tilt of her head, Alicia knew she was in big trouble just before the match had started. A few minutes later only confirmed the fact, as mixed on with the usual set of high flying manoeuvres Nova had started to single out one of her legs. Whatever the title contender had in mind Alicia didn't want to find out, managing to fight her off long enough to make the tag to a fresh Randy Orton who was ready to go.

The Viper smirked arrogantly when the woman ignored the ref telling her to get out and refused to move, demanding he tag Alicia back in with adamant hand gestures because she wasn't done. He had to admit, the woman had a set. He enjoyed it and found it a pity that Nova was a baby-face, she would've been a much more fun partner to team up with. He casually waved goodbye as the ref finally got Nova out and could tell it only annoyed her further. Immediately his attention shifted to Sin Cara, not being foolish enough to underestimate the luchadore's speed and agility simply because he was bigger and stronger than his opponent. After the initial lock-up Randy found himself on the wrong end of a wrist lock which gave Sin Cara enough control to quickly lead him towards the closest neutral set of turn-buckles, hopping from the second rope and then the top for a flashy boot to the head.

Nova stood staring intently across the opposite side of the ring. She knew she had to tread carefully with just how aggressive she should be against the champ, but her own anger at Alicia coupled with the adrenaline fuelled by the crowd made the idea of cutting lose a hard thing to resist. To make matters worse the match was set to give Randy and Sin Cara the majority of the in ring time, apparently Vince didn't quite trust Champion and contender to be civil towards each other. Unable to do anything else about it Nova played her part; stretching over the top rope for a tag every time her partner seemed to be within believable range as Orton seemingly gained the upper hand, encouraging the crowd to rally behind Sin Cara, stomping on either the apron or the heavy steel stairs to give him something to focus on when he appeared to be dazed. Everything from the proverbial baby-face tag partner handbook that she could think of was played out in that corner.

When there was only a minute or two left for their allotted time Sin Cara had turned the tables and had been keeping Randy off balance with his usual dizzying display of acrobatics that sent the Viper sprawling unceremoniously towards his own corner, and as he came crashing into it an inadvertent tag had been made. This was the moment Nova had been waiting for and almost immediately leapt over the top rope in avid anticipation, her enthusiasm for what was to come capturing the vocal crowd. While the ref argued with Alicia to get in the ring the Divas champ tried tagging Randy back in, but the former multi time champion had rolled to the outside and was calling it quits until Sin Cara took him out with a suicide dive.

Using the distraction to her advantage Nova seized the champ and forcefully dragged her into the ring, going right back to wear she left off by picking apart Alicia's left leg. The high flying aspect of her repertoire had been completely thrown out he window, the old school shoot submission style she had been trained in since a child coming out in full force and surprising everyone. Within moments both women were on the mat and Nova had locked in the crucifix knee-bar she had been setting her opponent up for in he centre of the ring, Alica tapping on the spot.

* * *

Back in Tampa Stu had been stretched out lazily on his couch watching the show with a beer in hand. Half the time he didn't really bother watching Victoria's matches and having Orton thrown into the mixed tag match made him wonder why he was watching it at all. Perhaps it was the luche libre pair they had been put against; that high risk stuff was fun to watch after all, and you'd be hard pressed to find anyone in the WWE who did it better than Luis. The woman he had been paired with also seemed to be able to hold her own in the high flying department, though most of the match seemed to be dedicated to letting Randy and Luis go at it.

Despite whatever delusion Victoria had conned herself into believing, Stu didn't really love her; to him it was more a relationship of convenient sex. Their schedules were compatible enough that each got enough of it from the other and from what she had exhibited so far she really didn't seem that interested in taking anything to the next level, despite her occasional bouts of possessive behaviour. It wasn't the best he'd ever had, sure, but it did the job so he wasn't going to complain about it. If all else failed he could just screw her from behind and close his eyes while imagining he was fucking someone else. As an almost casual afterthought he regarded his attitude, it did sound a little callous he had to admit. But fuck it, this was something that wasn't there for the long run, so why should he give a shit?

Pushing the idea aside he turned his attention back to the match, deducing it must be near its end as both women were back in the squared circle. Something seemed to change in the masked competitor he noticed. No high risk, high flying or dizzying tilt-a-whirl manoeuvres that had been the staple of Nova's arsenal of the past four months. It was simply savage pound and ground that zeroed on on a particular spot on the leg and had a very distinct familiarity to it. He sat up and started paying closer attention as the attacks built up to their inevitable conclusion of the submission. Grabbing the TiVo remote he paused, then rewound to the point where the luchadora had locked in the knee-bar. A _crucifix_ knee-bar.

Was it really...

He picked up his smart phone from it's place on the coffee table in front of him and opened up the google search app. He didn't know much, if anything about the new girl and up to this point never had a reason to bother finding anything out. The cursor blinked patiently as he hesitated, debating if he really wanted to go down this path. What if he didn't find what he was looking for... or what if he did? He honestly didn't know which would be worse, especially as seeing Imogen so unexpectedly back in May had dragged up feelings he rather leave buried.

_'Stop it, you're being irrational._' He scolded himself, _'The chances of it happening are slim to none.'_ Shrugging off the momentary apprehension Stu entered the key words to begin his search. _Nova, AAA, Callisto, Imogen Campbell._

As the internet coughed up it's results he opened a link to the first suggestion; his trip down the rabbit hole had begun.

* * *

When the match was done Imogen had made a beeline straight to McMahon's office, intent on getting Eve in a one on one bout. When she voiced as much to him Vince appeared stoic as he thought it over a moment before answering. "No," he finally replied. "You're not going to use my wrestling ring to settle every personal vendetta you come across."

"She went through my gear, Vince!" Imogen protested, having taken off the borrowed mask so she could look him in the eye. With her own recovered one she all but waved it in his face, "She basically stole my stuff in order to sabotage the Nova character!"

"Be that as it may, unfortunately all you have is hearsay." He looked at her with a certain calm measure, "Unless you have solid proof then there's nothing that can really be done beyond a verbal warning."

Imogen was incensed; she wanted to hit something, break it into so many incalculable little pieces that it could never be repaired. It felt like she was Godzilla but Tokyo was nowhere in sight. With Vince's mind made up she gave him a final scowl before jamming her own mask back on and storming out the door. Stalking her way back to the locker room any conversation that had been going on died as the door slammed open. With a snarl she found the focus of her ire and had her bailed up against a wall before anyone else could react. "If you go through my shit again you will regret it."

The guttural growl was achingly familiar, despite the strange accent it was spoken in. The two women stared at each other before she let Eve go and slowly backed off. As much as she wanted to, Imogen knew that going any further would land her in serious trouble; McMahon had already allowed her several concessions when it came to creative control of her persona, so pushing his good will wouldn't exactly be a prudent move. Fists clenched she went to her bag to fish out the sleeveless hoodie and put it on before leaving as abruptly as she had arrived and took off back to the hotel.

* * *

Phil was greeted by the hearty smell of Italian take out when he finally got back to the hotel for his now usual even run-down over a late dinner with Imogen. They both sat cross legged on the floor and most of the time tonight had been spent in absolute silence, the TV making most of the noise. He was rounding up the last few pieces of pasta with a fork while watching Imogen idly chasing around meatballs with an almost subtle savagery to her motions as she stabbed at the cooked beef with her own utensil. "Jab that thing any harder and the fork will end up in your hand." The meatball was skewered through the middle with an air of finality in reply. "Like it or not, he's right you know."

Silence.

His long suffering sigh was half resignation and something almost akin to annoyance and stacked his rubbish neatly to one side. He understood and accepted why she was pissed about Eve going through her things, but sulking merely because Vince wouldn't put the pair of them in the ring over it was simply childish. Here she was, thirty years old and acting like they were all still in elementary school. "I worry about you sometimes."

"Don't," she said bluntly, "I'm fine."

He snorted in an attempt not to outright laugh; an obviously pissed off woman saying she was fine more often than not was simply a polite way of saying _go fuck yourself_. "Bullshit. You know better than to try and pull that one with me." Her response was to merely stuff the rest of the now half eaten morsel in her mouth to avoid answering. "Alright, since you're going to be so damn sociable tonight I'll leave you to it," he said, sarcasm all but dripping off the words. Getting up he crossed the room, turning around to get one last word in before he left, but it lacked the irritated bite his last statement held. "Just do me a favour. Figure out the exact reason you came back here to wrestle, getting sidetracked by all this backstage crap isn't going to help you at all."

Imogen didn't look up as the door closed, more intent of staring at the remnants of the pasta and sauce that smeared the container her meal had been in. Stacking it on top on Phil's rubbish she eventually got up, putting it all in a nearby waste bin and headed into the bathroom. Pulling out her tooth-bush and paste from the small toiletries bag Imogen stared into the mirror as she brushed her teeth. Just why was it that she had agreed to return? What purpose was this going to serve? Blue eyes stared back at her as these questions and more prodded at her mind, demanding answers she didn't have. With a sudden pang of loneliness she wished that her father was there, feeling if there was one person who could help her sort this mess out it would be him. Briefly she thought of calling him, but a quick glance at her watch dissuaded the notion; it was already fairly late where she was, it would be later still in Tampa.

All at once she felt overly tired and didn't want to think on it any longer, she'd get no straight answers from herself right now anyway. After making sure the door was definitely locked all but one small lamp in the corner was switched off, leaving it on it's lowest setting so everything in the room was still just visible in a soft glow. _'Still sleeping with the lights on,' _came the sardonic thought, _'Yeah, you're totally over it_. _Next thing you know you'll be sleeping with a fucking night light.'_ With a defeated sigh she climbed under the covers and stared out the window, looking out at another anonymous skyline from a just as equally anonymous bed. This job and it's accompanying lifestyle used to mean the world to her, but ever since that night it was if Shane's actions had been ink that wouldn't dry or fade as it ran along the grooves and folds, seeping in and staining anything that wrestling had previously touched. She hated the twisted feeling toward something she had once loved with unabashed passion, and hated the man responsible for it even more.

Eventually sleep came for the few fleeting hours she had long since adjusted to, her last thoughts being after four long months it was finally time to go home...

* * *

James Campbell messed around the kitchen as the smell of bacon, eggs and onion frying spiced the air. His beloved wife was out of town for the weekend as Rosa and a few of her oldest and dearest friends had departed for Miami the day before to spend the weekend celebrating a birthday of one of the women. As much as he loved her James was enjoying having the place to himself for a couple of days, he could have the biggest, greasiest, manliest breakfast he could throw together without being constantly reminded of what such a meal could possibly be doing to his body. When he was finally done the plate before him was loaded up with just about everything a person could cook in a skillet accompanied by a strong coffee dolloped with extra cream. Picking up his knife and fork he loaded it up with a bit of everything, taking a moment to enjoy the smell just before he was about eat it...

When he was interrupted by the doorbell.

With a sigh he put the fork down and grumbled all the way to the door, how did people always know when to come over at the most inopportune times? However the annoyance was short lived once he opened the door to his random guest. "Imogen!"

With an almost shy, sheepish smile she looked up at the familiar and rugged face of her father, "Hi, dad. It's been a while."


	8. Chapter 8

After making herself a coffee Imogen sat down at the table opposite James as he continued with his breakfast. They talked about all sorts of mundane things while skirting around the elephant in the room, neither not entirely sure how to approach the subject of why it had taken so long for her to come back home. The weather, old family friends and relatives, the house and even Hercules were topics they covered until finally they were left with the glaring eye that was staring at them, begging to shown some attention. When they had exhausted just about everything else she knew that her dad wasn't going to be the one to bring it up, so if it were to ever get to the obvious point she was the one who was going to have to do it. She didn't directly look at him and instead was focused on Hercules, who had his head resting on her thigh as she rubbed the soft fur behind his ears. The aging German Shepard gave a contented sigh, oblivious to the conversation. "Dad... I've started wrestling again. For Vince."

Stacking his cutlery and mug on his now empty plate he stood up, taking her own cup as he went back into the kitchen, "Another coffee?" He asked, almost as if he hadn't heard what she had just said.

With a slight look of confusion at his lack of acknowledgement followed him and agreed. "You... aren't mad?"

"Why would I be?" he replied casually, heaping sugar into both cups. "You honestly think, after all the years I spent training you, that your grand father trained you, that I wouldn't know it was my baby girl under that mask, kiddo? Besides, even if I didn't, you gave yourself away with that submission you're so fond of on Monday night."

Imogen refrained from groaning; the crucifix kneebar. It wasn't until she had climbed on the plane early that morning and the same thought had occurred to her. She had wondered if anyone had been paying enough attention to see the similarities between her former style and the last minute or so of that match.

James watched as she inevitably face-palmed, a low chuckle emanating from his throat. "So... back with McMahon's lot then?"

"Mhm."

"What made you do that?"

"They came to me... well, they came to Nova, they just had no idea that it was me until they showed up with a contract offer."

"I see." Handing the mug over to her the pair went out onto the back deck, the fresh smell of the ocean greeting them. "How are things going with it?"

She sighed, it was a tough question to answer when she really thought about it. "Good... bad... a little of both."

"Well that certainly clears things up."

"And people wonder where I got my smart ass attitude from..." She shot back with a roll of the eyes. "When I'm not in the ring with Crawford I can't complain much, but my fucking god I just want to take her out of the game every time we're both put in opposite corners. On Monday all I wanted to do was put that little bit more pressure on her leg until I felt something give." Silence reigned for a few minutes as James ingested this information. For all the aggressive tactics she had picked up from him, yearning to be a career killer was not among them. "Dad... was there ever a time you hated that you once loved wrestling, but didn't want to stop either?"

"You may need to explain that, I'm not quite sure I follow."

Frustration briefly flashed across her face; she wasn't quite sure how to explain it to herself, let alone anyone else. "It's like... like it's been stained somehow, and I can't get it clean no matter what I do. I want things to go back to how they used to be, back before..." The sentence faltered, there was no way in hell she was going to give voice to those words. Taking a breath she tried to articulate her line of thought back on course, "When I get backstage and even with people not knowing who I am, I seem to get pulled into drama. Or maybe I create it, seek it out... I don't know. Instead of just walking away from it I just seem to wade in deeper, like I _want_ a reason to beat the crap out of someone."

"No, can't say I've had anything like that," He replied, "Annoyance and dislike at certain people, maybe the occasional case of burn out certainly, but nothing quite like that. I think where your problem lies is that you've been trying to bullshit everyone, including yourself, that wherever you are with this whole Shane McMahon thing it isn't the rosy picture you've been trying to paint it as. You still haven't really faced up to it; you can't even say it." His eyes were watching Imogen like a hawk, gauging her reaction to his words. "Even now, as much as you like to think you are, you're not alone in this. You've been gifted with the most staunch and loyal group of friends I've ever seen in my life, especially those two from Chicago... Did Brooks ever tell you exactly what I wanted to do to him if he didn't tell me exactly where you had taken off to?"

"Not exactly." He had mentioned it briefly in passing, playing it off like the confrontation hadn't been that big of a deal.

"I was more than ready to kill him... as well as Scott. In fact I can severely close to knocking his head off," He admitted, "But neither one gave you up for a second. Then there was Niedhart and the rest of them phoning the house for months trying to reach you. Poor girl seemed heartbroken that you had vanished." He stopped himself, realising that his words may sound like he was being unintentionally berating. He decided against including how distraught Rosa had been. As for himself, well, James just adapted as best as he could and soldiered on, waiting for the moment his only child would eventually return. "Honey, I know I'm not a shrink, I'll never claimed to be. But these are people you can trust, they care about you, no matter what happens."

Imogen was silent for a long time and he left go of the grip he had on her fingers. Hercules promptly made himself at home, his upper body resting comfortably in her lap and looked up, greying muzzle seeking out a cheek to lick. Again her fingers found their way to his ears before wrapping her arms around him for a hug, finding comfort in the softness of his shiny coat. "Dad... what if Shane manages to get out on bail? What if Vince forgives him and gives him a job?"

The question caught the senior Campbell a little off guard, especially in the quiet tone she had used. It made him think of when she was just a little girl, scared that the roll of thunder was the sound of some terrible creature that would come to eat children. "That little bastard wont be getting out for a long time," James replied, rallying all the conviction he could muster, "As for Vince, well... he's a lot of things, but regardless as to whether even half of it is true I doubt even he would do something like that. If absolutely nothing else it would terribly bad for business, and if there's one thing you can count on a rich man doing it's protecting his income."

Again they fell silent as Imogen ingested the opinions of her father. He had just given her a lot of points that had hit their marks and she knew that she had to work through at some point, the sooner the better. The question was though, where to start? Closing her eyes Imogen leaned back into the chair and listened to the waves washing up against the shore in an almost soothing, unbroken rhythm.

James got up and, taking the empty coffee cups, disappeared back inside for a few minutes, allowing her some time to herself. When she eventually came back inside he was in the small home office looking through some paper work. "Where have you been staying the past few months? With Colton or Brooks I assume." He asked while peering over the rims of his reading glasses.

"Scott." Imogen answered, "You know Punkster and I would try to kill each other inside of a month if we actually had to live in the same house again."

That deep baritone chuckle once again emerged; while it seemed as if Punk and Imogen were all but inseparable, they were a little to much like each other at times. During her early indy days Imogen was eager to strike out on her own both in her career and out from under her parents roof, ending in what would be one of a few short stints at living in the Second City. It was during this first, and only, house sharing exercise that the pair had learned there was indeed a limit to just how much time they could spend with one another. When it came to views on things like house cleaning for example, the two were polar opposites; Phil was content with his 'organised chaos' while Imogen was almost militant about having everything clean and tidy. So while they could easily travel and work together it was all but essential that each had their own living space independent of the other unless it was short term... very short term.

Scott on the other hand was laid back enough to go along with whatever; she could be as obsessive as she wanted about where things would go and instead of arguing he would simply roll with it. In the grand scheme of life he didn't see the point in getting upset over which cupboard the toaster was kept in, simply waiting it out until Imogen once again was out on her own before moving it back; if he could be bothered to do even that. The bonus was his apartment would be almost spotless, so he wasn't going to protest against what was essentially free housekeeping.

"I see. Any idea when you're coming back down here?"

"Not really, it would mean all the fun of house hunting first." Her tone suggesting the exercise was anything but, Imogen hated house hunting.

"Consider that taken care of," James said, "At least for a few months..."

* * *

_Just gonna leave it there, this has been a bitch to write. Still not to sure if I pulled it off the way I intended, but I guess time will tell._

_Also time for a little personal plug! Mainly because I can. If anyone is interested in leaving me a challenge go check out 'Challenge Accepted', I think my brain could do with a little vacation coming up with a one shot or two if people are so inclined to leave an idea over there._


	9. Chapter 9

It was a Saturday morning in Chicago and breakfast was well under way in Scott Colton's residence. Colt was sprawled out along his couch while Imogen sat in the companion armchair, legs tucked comfortably underneath herself as they both attacked large bowls of cereal while watching DVD's of old school cartoons from the 1980's. In just an hour or two from now he was going to drive her to the airport where Imogen would once again catch a flight down to Florida; this difference this time it would be a one way trip.

A part of Scott was relieved at the idea of getting his place back to being his own space again, yet another part would be sad to see her go. Having been single for a while he found it nice to come back to an apartment that wasn't empty after doing shows along the independent scene; the magical laundry basket and pre cooked meals were a bonus too. With Phil not living to far away, Chi-Town had to be on the look out for the three friends whenever they were out and about and getting into all sorts of misadventures. But on the flip side of all the fun he had all but forgotten what it was like sharing the same place with someone who could probably pass as a case for OCD when it came to mess. As laid back as he was, even Colt cabana had his limits with everything being put away in there proper place when not being used. How Bennett had not only put up with it but also seemed quite content living with it for five years seemed to be a mystery to the Chicago native.

Though he did admit, it was never as bad before she left as it was currently. It was like almost totalitarian in her need to control even this small piece of her life.

"If you've got something to say then spit it out, Cabana Boy," Imogen said with half a mouthful of Cheerios before swallowing it. "You've been staring at me on and off for the past five minutes."

"Nothing really," He replied, "I was just wondering if by the time your folks get home from their vacation if they're going to even recognise the house once you've finished rearranging everything."

She simply laughed a little, "I've been that overbearing, huh?"

"Maybe a little." Placing his now empty bowl down on the coffee table Scott covered his mouth with the palm of his hand as a small burp escaped him, "It's not like I can really complain though, how many people get to say they've had a WWE Diva do their laundry and make dinner for free?"

"This is true. You should feel very privileged, Mister Colton."

"I do indeed," He grinned before changing the subject, "So, what's happening on Raw this Monday? Anything I should set the TiVo for?"

"Well Punkster is doing his thing with this 'I demand respect' angle, I think it's starting the show if I recall, then by the end he gets pulled into a match or something with Reeves."

"How about you? Who are you going to make dizzy with all the high flying stunts?"

"Aksana. Don't ask me to pronounce her actual name, at least not at this time of the morning, it's a damn mouthful. They want to throw a couple more heels at me before the Pay Per View so I can build up momentum." Silence followed for a minute, filled by the battle cry of Flint and company declaring 'Yo Joe!' and charging into the fight against a squad of Cobra troops, "I'm thinking of taking the mask off after Summer Slam."

Colt spluttered on the mouthful of juice he had been in the middle of swallowing, forcing him into a coughing fit as it came out his nose. That was something coming completely out of left field, he honestly hadn't been expecting that to happen for a while yet. Once he had managed to get a hold of himself he moved onto the next obvious question, "Not that I'm objecting, but why now?"

"A number of things. I think talking to dad helped a bit..." Closing her eyes she began idly tapping her right temple with two fingers while she thought, "I gotta be honest though, half the time I don't know what the hell I'm doing any more, it's like I'm making it up as I go along. Perhaps eliminating one less thing to manage will help that." She stopped and looked over at him with an almost resigned ghost of a smile, "Once it's done it'll be the end of it, plus it was part of the deal. It's not like I don't have anyone to fall back on if it goes south in the long run. Punkster, Nattie, Beth, Supes..."

"Supes?"

"Yeah, Supes... As in Superman...as in-." Colt's confused expression broke into another grin as she realised he was playing dumb. "Ass."

He chuckled, catching the cushion she threw at him, "You going to stay the good girl?"

"I've been thinking about that actually, since I have a fair amount of creative control under the contract terms." A smug smirk crept up as she thought about it, "Including which music to use as a new theme. Within reason of course."

"So are you going to tell me, or just keep on playing secret squirrel?"

Grinning, she shifted closer to the couch and began to tell Cabana roughly what she had in mind...

* * *

Late that afternoon Imogen walked through the door of her parents home to be greeted with a wagging tail and friendly bark from Hercules. After three years away it felt good to truly be home, even if the dog was the only one to greet her on Imogen's first night back in the state of Florida. She didn't mind it though, in fact she was looking forward to just unwinding in the peace and quiet with no-one but the family pet for company. Despite her mother's insistence to postpone a holiday they had been saving up and planning for years even before she left, Imogen had barely managed to talk her out of it. She didn't see the reason that they had to drop everything merely for her benefit and had stated as much to Rosa. After some work, and James' help in convincing her, she let the subject drop; at least now Rosa would know exactly where her daughter was living and working. The fact that they didn't have to put old Herc in a boarding kennel any more didn't hurt the cause either, it appealed to James' more frugal side.

Hauling her luggage down the hallway she unpacked most of it into the dresser, keeping a smaller case packed for when she had to fly out to the next Raw show, then headed back downstairs to raid the fridge. Standing there with the door open for a few minutes Imogen decided that there was nothing in there she really wanted as it seemed that Rosa was on one of her weird experimental diet phases again. _No wonder dad had gone nuts with the skillet while she was gone_, she thought to herself with a small grin, _I'd go crazy to if I had to eat half this stuff on a daily basis_. Closing the fridge she looked down at the attentive dog who had been staring at the shelves with eager, almost pleading eyes. "Trust me, I don't think even you would eat tofu sausages." His response was a whine. "How about we... go for a walk?"

At the sound of the word 'walk' the dog barked, spun once or twice on the spot in excitement before heading toward the back door. Stuffing the house keys and her wallet in her pockets Imogen slid the heavy glass door open then locked it behind them before setting off down the beach, heading for a small store that was about fifteen minutes or so up the road across from the shoreline. As they both walked across the damp sand Imogen couldn't help but wiggle her toes a little as the surf rolled over her flip flop wearing feet, it had been far to long since she had been anywhere near a beach and hadn't realised just how much she had missed it until now. When they reached their destination Hercules laid down in a corner under the shelf that lined the bench around the register near the door as his human waved to the familiar cashier, and older man by the name of Bob Cassidy.

With basket in hand Imogen idly began to hum along to the current song that came over the radio, _Tonight, Tonight_ by The Smashing Pumpkins while she perused the products, waiting for something to grab her attention. Eventually she found her way staring down the junk food isle and debated whether or not to indulge. With a small shrug she ventured forth, ending up with skittles, peanut M & M's and a couple of Hershey bars. _Sugar rush hooo_, she thought with a small smirk as she reviewed her choices. It made her thankful for her ridiculous metabolism, she might have felt guilty about grabbing so much candy otherwise. After grabbing a few other things Imogen headed toward the register to pay for her things, having a short conversation with Bob, who had owned the place since she was in high school and thus knew the wrestler fairly well.

"When did you get back into town? Last your dad told me you were running around Mexico... Or was it Japan?"

"I got in this afternoon actually." Imogen replied, "I've spent the last twelve months in Mexico, with the AAA for a while."

"Really? Nice to see you got some work after them up north gave you the sack." He grunted at the thought, "Firing someone while they're injured, it isn't right if you ask me."

She simply shrugged, satisfied with the lie that McMahon had come up with. The last thing she wanted was everyone asking a million questions over something that was none of their business as far as she was concerned. As per her request when he had asked, Vince had had Imogen's contract terminated a month or so after the trial, citing injury plus a few other factors under a 90 day fair warning clause. From a company who's Diva's sometimes came and went like they were in a revolving door it hadn't garnered much attention in the grand scheme of things. "These things happen, pointless to dwell on it in the wrestling business." Gathering up the bags that sat on the counter she made her move to leave, "I'll catch up with you later, Mister Cassidy."

She turned to leave and almost bumped straight into the guy who had queued up behind her, his attention focused on a magazine. "Sorry, I didn't- Stu?"

He hadn't been paying to much attention to what had been going on, small headphones blocking out enough noise that could easily make him tune out of any conversation of strangers around him as he had wandered up and down the isles. Just when he thought he was getting his head back to normal here she was popping up randomly in his life. _Again_. The faintest scent of vanilla and honey hit him hard, his mind had long a go cemented its association to her and much easier, happier times. Pulling out the small ear buds he tucked them into the collar of his shirt as she moved out of the way. "Imogen... So... back in town?"

"Yeah." God, if she had thought the elevator thing had been awkward then this was out to trump it. At least then she had Phil to drag her off while mumbling some excuse. "Got in today." Why the hell was she still standing here? Part of her brain was urging her to leave, but for some reason her feet weren't listening. "Congrats on getting the Heavyweight championship by the way. The match you had at Wrestlemania was great." _Business? Really?_ All the things hanging over them and the first thing her brain went to was business? Briefly she thought of the scumbag brain memes and thought hers was being rather apt at it right now.

"Thanks."

"Well... Take care, Stu." Readjusting the grip she had on the bag handles she headed toward the automatic doors, Hercules falling in step with a quick command. Having all the distance and time separating them, Imogen had allowed herself to believe she had made peace with her decision and moved on. From what she knew he certainly had. Her blood all but sang as it raced through her veins, positive she was blushing if the heated feeling running up her neck and cheeks was anything to go by. She had almost forgotten what it was like to be that close to him, his height putting him at least half a foot taller than she was. It was one of the things that had drawn her to him in the first place; she had always been a sucker for tall men, especially since she wasn't that short herself. All the guards and barriers she had managed to carefully erect felt as flimsy as cardboard right now, all because her traitorous, rebellious heart couldn't make up its damn mind over the issue of the Englishman.

Stu absently put his magazine and a few other items on the counter, unable to tear his eyes away from the briskly retreating figure of his ex. From the direction she was headed, plus in the company of that dog, he knew where she was going. He didn't really give his attention back to Bob until the other man cleared his throat rather audibly, "Seems to me, in her hurry to get back home, that Miss Campbell has left something behind." Casually he picked up a black leather wallet, the Quicksliver surfing brand name embossed on its front. "Mister Bennett, if you would be so kind, could you drop this off for me?"

He hesitated a moment. Bob knew that the two had been an item, he also knew that they had broken up. So why was the old man doing this? He should just refuse, not get involved; besides as soon as she realised it was gone no doubt this would be the first place she'd come looking for it. However, regardless of the internal arguments, Stu watched as his own hand took the item and then slid it into his own pocket before heading out the door...

* * *

_I think I've danced around not having these two in the same place for less than a few moments long enough... As for what's going to happen next? Your guess is as good as mine!_

_I felt as if Colt deserved a proper scene of his own somewhere to flesh out his friendship with our heroine a bit more, seeing as he only had very brief and all but voiceless appearances in the first story. Hoping I can work him in here and there as we progress but we'll just have to wait and see._

_Peace!_


	10. Chapter 10

Stu sat in his car for a while at the end of the street, just down the other end was the Campbell residence and within it his ex girlfriend. He had been sitting there for a good ten minutes, his eyes splitting their attention from staring down the road and at the wallet he had sitting in the small well he used for throwing his lose change and other random things in. Why in the hell had he decided to do this? By the way she had all but ran out of the store it seemed pretty clear to him that Imogen wanted nothing to do with him. He sighed as he rubbed one of his temples, he could always slip it through the old mail slot in the door and leave it at that. Yes, that would be better for all involved; Imogen would get her wallet back without being none the wiser and he could just go the hell home. Starting the engine he drove the short distance and stopped again just outside the house ad got out with wallet in hand.

Imogen had just finished putting away the groceries she had bought when Hercules all of a sudden marched down the hall while barking. The only time he did that was when someone was out the front... or if squirrels were in the yard again. Curious to see who or what was setting him off she followed, just in time to see a black object fall to the floor through the mail slot. Realising what it was she picked it up and quickly opened the door to thank whoever dropped it off. However before she could grab his collar Herc had shot past in an unusual display of exuberance, trotting down the path and getting in front of the retreating person, his tail wagging at the sight of the familiar face.

Crap, he had forgotten about the dog. _How_ could have he possibly forgotten about the damn dog? He slowly turned around, the surprise on her face was notable. "Hey," he began, that awkward feeling returning, "You left it behind, Bob asked if I could drop it off."

She stood there for a second, a hand going to the back of her neck that he recognised as a nervous reaction. Despite herself the corner of her mouth gave the smallest twitch of a smile, as weird as this was he had actually gone out of his way to bring her wallet back when he didn't have to. "Thanks."

He nodded and went to turn around, giving the German Shepard a parting pat on the head as he did so. "Take care, Imogen. Maybe I'll see you around."

Was that a hint of... hopeful anticipation? Mentally she shrugged it off, highly doubting that it was. Still, knowing her own unmasking was imminent, getting back on at least some form of civil ground would be ideal. She felt as if she had done enough to hurt him and having things as they were now would probably make it worse. Anything would be better than how it was at the moment, plus it wasn't as if Vince would keep him on the opposite show forever. "Stu... listen..." He turned back, eyebrow cocked in mild curiosity. "We're bound keep bumping into each other like this eventually, especially with Punkster and the others working with you. Perhaps we should... talk sometime?"

He thought it over for a second, but couldn't find any real fault in the logic. Since she was back Imogen was bound to end up at a show or two to see Brooks and company so getting this uncomfortable awkwardness dealt with would be better than nothing. _Besides we're both adults_, he thought as he reasoned with himself. Whether or not it would be a good idea or not remained to be seen though. "Alright, where do you want to go?"

"How about that coffee shop we always used to go to?"

Stu merely shook his head, "The place closed down six months a go. It went under new management for a while before they eventually closed the doors."

"Oh." The disappointment was evident, she had loved that place. They had spent so many hours there before either of them had gotten signed with Vince's lot. "Any suggestions then?"

"There's a new place that opened up on the pier," He answered as he scratched his chin, "we could go there I suppose."

"Ok, sounds good," Imogen replied, "When do you want to do this?"

"How about Monday? We can go there for lunch."

"I can't," Her mind raced as she quickly tried to think of an excuse, "I have to take Herc to the vet and then take my car in to get it serviced. I want to make sure that it's running alright seeing as it's barely moved Since I-." She stopped herself, realising she was about to ramble. Last thing she wanted to do was oversell herself here, "So, yeah. Monday. It's a no go."

So Nova decides to whip out Callisto's old submission and Imogen is conveniently busy on Monday. Perhaps he was reading to much into it, a lot of people knew how to do crucifix knee-bars, but a part of him couldn't help but not believe a word she just said; especially since she had started a mini tangent. "Well I have to fly out Thursday night for Smackdown on Friday... How about Wednesday then?"

Relief flooded through her as she managed to dodge that particular bullet. "Wednesday is good. Two o'clock good for you?"

"It's fine." Stu agreed with a nod of his head, "See you then."

* * *

Phil sat on the bed and watched as Imogen paced back and forth her hotel room, unable to hide his amusement. It had taken him the better part of the morning but he had finally gotten out of her just why she had been somewhat distracted. Since then he had spent the last hour teasing her over the situation. "It's just a little date," he said as he tried not laugh.

"It is _not_ a date, Punkster."

The almost immediate reply seemed a little to defensive and he couldn't fight off the grin. She maybe denying it to him, and maybe even herself, but he hadn't seen her this nervous over a man since... the first official date with Bennett if Punk recalled correctly. "Come on, you're acting like this is the first time you've gone out with someone since you broke up with the guy." When Imogen refused to look at him and watched as she idly rubbed a spot on the back of her neck his eyes widened a little in surprise. "Wait, you mean all this time you've never once...?" She shook her head, "So Bennett really _was_ the last?"

"Yes." The answer came through gritted teeth. He had been giving her shit all morning, and while she could see the humour in it to begin with, if he didn't stop soon she was going to attempt to throw him out the window.

All of a sudden he felt like a dick as guilt settled over him. The way she had been acting over the past few months it was almost easy for him to believe at times that she had put the past behind her completely and would have moved on to some extent. Sure she had been a little more aggressive in the ring and a bit more reserved when among people, but buried under all that proverbial armour there was still a glimmer of the person she used to be. Getting up he stood in front of the Tampa native, causing her to stop wearing a path into the beige coloured carpet. "Look, Cal, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take it quite that far." Reaching out he pulled her into a hug, felt her reciprocate the gesture. "I'll let you in on something though. Despite whatever you may have heard or think that's going on between him and Crawford, he still carries a torch for you."

She pulled back a little and looked up at him with scepticism. "Riiiiiight. I can totally believe that with how she was all but dry humping his leg at the elevator."

"That's what _she_ was doing; he was to busy being just as dumbfounded by the whole random encounter as you were. Besides, if he really didn't give a shit any more, do you really think he would've gone out of his way simply to give you your wallet back? Would he have even agreed to go on this 'not a date' date?" As Phil heard himself ask Imogen the questions a part of himself could help but be somewhat idly amused by his own stance. Here he was, going to bat for the guy that had made it clear the last time they were in the ring together that they were no longer on good terms. It had made the rivalry between Stu and Randy look tame by comparison. It was after that match that Vince had decided to separate the two by having them on different shows where they would no longer be in direct competition with one another if it could be helped.

Despite all of that, however, he couldn't recall a time where Imogen had been happier than with her time with the Englishman. But if they could settle things, even if it wasn't the pair of them getting back together, perhaps some of the rifts could finally begin to close and they could both move on with their lives in earnest. "When you dumped him the guy was shattered, barely talked to anyone for a month. He hasn't really been that happy since. Satisfied, maybe, but not happy."

"I didn't mean to-"

"You don't need to explain yourself to me, Cal. I know the story, I was there for it. Whatever happens on Wednesday just let it flow. If it all falls to shit then at least both of you know where you stand, but if things go well, then roll with it." With a reassuring squeeze he released his hold and grinned, "Either way, whether you want to admit it or not, it should put an end to this pining you've been doing."

"I'm not pining," She replied, intent of giving him a half hearted slap but missed when he dodged out of the way. "You are insufferable at times, Phillip Jack Brooks."

"Hey, no need to resort to name calling." Catching an oncoming cushion thrown from a nearby chair, he threw it back, then watched as she slipped on the sunglasses and light cotton hoodie that had become almost like a standard uniform if she wasn't in her ring gear. Grabbing her bag for the arena, they quickly stopped by his room before heading to the elevator. When they were safely inside it he looked at his own reflection that stared back at him in the mirrored glasses, "So Colt tells me you have a few ideas to pitch to Vinnie Mac for your title reign."

"Yup."

"You going to fill me in on more of the details?"

"Maybe."

"Come on, who can say no to this face?"

"How long do you want the list?"

"Ouch."

She couldn't help but laugh at the mock hurt that played over his face, "I assume he told you about it?"

"Most of it. What I really want to know is what would you do afterward, like maybe go down the usual heel path they did with Hunico when he was unmasked?"

"I'm not sure yet, I suppose it would all depend on who they have me facing. I was thinking of some sort of personality switch being flicked or something like that." She shrugged, watching as the numbers counted down toward the lobby floor. "It's only a basic outline so far, I don't want to detail it to much until I've run it past Vince..."

* * *

Imogen had spent a good part of the morning going through her clothes, trying things on, promptly discarding them and picking something else. She hadn't wanted to admit it, she still didn't, but Phil had managed to get it out of her; she was nervous as hell. It was something that she appreciated in a weird way, that unofficial big brother sort of behaviour he couldn't help but act on, but also would quite gleefully want to throttle him at the same time.

_It's __not__ a date_, she reminded herself for the countless time, W_e're merely going to sort out whatever issues can be sorted so we can be back on at least some sort of neutral ground. Besides, I don't care what Punkster said, somehow he seems happy enough with Crawford. It's not my place to ruin that if he's moved on._

She stood in front of a mirror holding two pairs of bottoms; one a pair of straight cut white jeans, the other a skirt a mix of sea green and sky blue that stopped just above her knees. "Which one is better?" Imogen asked as she looked over her shoulder in the mirror at Hercules lying on the end of the bed. He merely flicked an ear as his eyes looked up at her, looking completely uninterested. "You're such a help, you know that?" With a sigh she opted for the first option, "When in doubt, go for the white." When she was finally ready half an hour later Imogen gave herself the once over, still not entirely sure she was satisfied with the reflection staring back. "Oh for god sake, woman, get a grip. You're not sixteen years old any more and he's your ex for a reason." She sighed as she slipped on a pair of aviator style sunglasses and left the room, picking up her phone, wallet and keys along the way.

Climbing into the drivers seat of an old, somewhat roughed up looking Jeep Wrangler soft top she adjusted the seat and mirrors before starting the engine. Maybe now she was getting paid decent money she could look into getting the old thing restored. Peering in the rear view her own eyes stared back over the dark lenses, as if they were almost sceptical of her own motives, forcing her to repeat aloud what she had been telling herself all morning.

"It is _not_ a date."


	11. Chapter 11

Stu leaned casually up against a railing while watching the traffic go by, the sound of the water lapping lazily against the pier; Imogen was late. He looked at his watch to check the time for the third time before finally seeing the white SUV pull up into the parking lot. After quickly smoothing out her short and now windswept hair, Imogen took a deep breath to calm her nerves and got out. He straightened up as she approached, trying to look calmer than he currently felt as his stomach buzzed with an anxious energy. As she approached the Englishman a small nervous half smile greeted him, something he still found rather... adorable. Mentally he shook himself, this wasn't a date, they were merely going to work out where one stood with the other.

What did that even mean anyway? Were they _really_ going to attempt that awkward 'just friends' farce that some ex couples do? God, he hoped not, Stu would rather consider poking himself in the eye with something sharp than do that. If they were truly over then he'd rather simply leave it at that, rather than jumping through hoops and pretending like sharing five years of their lives together had never happened.

"Hi," She began, "Sorry for being late, there was an incident that had the traffic backing up."

"Anything serious?"

"Thankfully no, just someone rear ending someone else." Looking down the many cafes and speciality stores that lined the board-walk her attention shifted back to him, "Shall we?" He nodded and they set off.

They walked along in the shade, avoiding the Florida summer sun, passing groups of families, teenagers, tourists and a multitude of cafes, restaurants and little stalls and shops in between; Imogen decidedly felt that after so much time away it really did feel good to be back home. Their walk was made in silence, neither quite knowing what to say to the other, before Stu suddenly stopped. The place was small and easy to miss among the many other eateries if you weren't looking out for it, making Imogen wonder how places like this got off the ground, let alone stayed in business. Once inside, however, she could easily see why it held a certain appeal.

The place was a lot bigger on the inside and set up like a prohibition era speak-easy. Big band music played over hidden speakers was loud enough to give the place the right vibe, but soft enough to still be considered ambient noise as to not intrude on the conversations of patrons. Along one side was a small bar, the rows of liquor bottles tinted a warm yellow from the overhanging lights covered by glass art deco styled light shades. A small lamp sat in the middle of each table that dotted the room, the soft glow giving each setting a subtle air of intimacy. The floors were comprised of highly polished hardwood that had been stained the colour of dark mahogany. It was put together so well it felt like someone had cone back in time and bought the place straight out of the 1920's.

A waitress approached them and led them to a table in a quiet corner and handed them a menu each before retreating to the only other currently occupied table of an elderly couple. As Imogen took in her surroundings her eyes locked with the old woman who offered a smile which she returned before focusing on her own menu, only to giggle at some of the names on the list, "'The Al Capone Experience'? What is that?"

"Spaghetti with walnut sauce," Stu replied, "You'll find a lot of the menu is Italian."

A couple of minutes later after they had some time to peruse the courses the waitress came back and took their orders, briefly returned with drinks then vanished again. Idly Imogen poked at the ice cubes that bobbed to the surface of her large glass of Coke with a straw, neither one of them seemingly willing to make the first move and start a conversation. It was like they had almost forgotten how to talk to each other and neither knew how to bridge the gap.

Since this whole thing was her idea to begin with, Imogen decided it was her obligation to try and get the ball rolling. "How did you find this place? It seems pretty hidden away." Almost immediately she regretted asking the innocent question, even though the small flash of negative emotion that played across his face was gone as quickly as it showed.

"I found myself coming down here a lot after you... left." He corrected himself at the last second, refraining from saying '_ran off with that prick from Chicago_'. While he knew the statement itself wasn't true it had still felt like it. The close knit bond that the two shared -and apparently afforded Phil some form of favouritism- had been a huge blow to his own self esteem and shaken his confidence, which in turn had branded him with a mark of bitterness. "I just caught it out of the corner of my eye, and it looked different from most of the other places around here crammed with that more modern aesthetic."

Taking a small sip from her glass, Imogen smiled a little at a sudden memory recollection. "You know what it reminds me of? That Halloween party in New York we went to. Your first over here, if I recall." At the mention of the 1930's themed party he couldn't help but grin a little himself, the night had been a lot of fun as the pair of them had decided to go as Bonnie and Clyde.

"So... what about you?" He asked a little slowly, "Where did you end up for three years?"

"I travelled around for a while, through Europe mainly. After a year or so of that I ended up in Japan and stumbled across some work there for a while. I stayed there for about six months, then somehow ended up in Mexico for about a year before I finally ended up coming home." Putting the drink down Imogen looked over the table, "So how about you? Aside from winning championships and kicking everyone's ass in general?"

"I ended up getting 'injured' again for a short time so I could have a role in a movie for Vince's pet movie firm project."

"_Dead Man Down_? I went to see that, actually. I found it fun." She watched as a glance of mild scepticism crossed his face, "And no, it's not what you're thinking. I'm not being a kiss ass simply to get back into your good books, I like actions movies."

"This is true," he conceded, "I swear if I had to watch one more Jason Statham movie I probably would've thrown the TV out."

"What can I say," she shrugged a little as a small smirk appeared, "I have apparently developed a thing for Englishmen it seems." As soon as she said it the surprise from both parties was evident, dangerously stalling the momentum they had managed to gain over the past few minutes. The silence returned for a while, each wondering what to do next.

"Why?"

Imogen was mildly confused by the quietly spoken one word question, "Why what?"

"Why leave?"

Finally the elephant in the room was dragged out of it's corner. With a sigh she leaned back in the chair, looking over at the elderly couple for a moment as she attempted to organise her thoughts. "That... is a hard question to answer," She finally replied, giving her full attention back to Stu once again. "The Readers Digest version? With everything that had happened and the media circus it had devolved into, I wasn't exactly entirely convinced that my name wouldn't get leaked somehow, so by removing myself as far from the situation as I could it wouldn't matter if it did. I even went from being a brunette to a blond for the first six months before cutting it." The confession was harder than she thought it was going to be and her eyes diverted from his. Instead they focused on the moisture that began to bead along the cold glass of coke, slowly running down its contours and soaked into the stiff cardboard coaster it rested on. "I guess in the end I just wasn't strong enough to handle it."

Stu seemed to digest the brief explanation in for a moment; it seemed like an overly simplified answer for a situation that was much more psychologically complex. Inside his mind the various imagined confrontations that had played over and over in his head seemed to abandon him now that he was presented with the real thing. The questions were still there, but it was something he was apprehensive in following through with, lest everything completely break down into something that couldn't be salvaged. Why was Phil made privy to her plans? Why wasn't he given a chance, let alone a choice, to redeem himself for any mistakes he may have made? Probably the biggest one of all not only surprised him, but was the one he seemed almost afraid of getting an answer for; did she well and truly no longer love him?

Both were momentarily spared when their meals finally arrived, the scent of fresh pasta covered in sauce was mouthwatering. Despite this, Imogen didn't feel much like eating any more, the mood had changed and felt heavy. It had gone from being a tentative splash in the kiddie pool to being slung straight in the deep end without a life preserver. Idly she pushed the pasta around wondering before at least pretending like she was feeling peckish.

"You and Crawford huh?" She commented abruptly while keeping her focus on her food, "I have to admit, that surprised me."

He studied her for a moment, wondering what she could possibly be getting at. Was that... _jealousy_ he heard? Eventually he just shrugged, "It just kind of happened." He took a bite from the portion of Sirloin that was skewered onto his fork and chewed it thoroughly. "Why, does it bother you?"

"No," She replied, "It's not like I expected you to stay single forever."

The answer had been little to quick and just a hair to defensive in its tone, he noted. Not to mention the way her nose scrunched up a little. She had always been a bad liar and he long a go learned to read what her tells were. Still, the little kernel of knowledge that it bugged her on some level couldn't help but give him a kick; she _was_ jealous. For someone to be jealous they actually had to care on some level. He sucked on one of his cheeks in an effort not to grin outright as he thought about it, the flesh slowly sliding out of the light grip his teeth had on it. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valour he stayed silent and merely enjoyed his steak with this new development he had unearthed.

"What do plan on doing, now that you're back?"

"I guess the first thing to do would be looking into finding a place of my own before my folks get back from their vacation, though I don't have to worry about that for at least a month. After that, well, who knows."

The rest of the meal was taken in near silence, each taking refuge in their own thoughts for the time being. When they were done the quiet seemed to stretch on, once again encroaching on being uncomfortable and awkward. Imogen began to think that perhaps this was a bad idea after all. If this was a bad idea, then was working for Vince again also a mistake? She huffed a sigh, then unexpectedly grinned as a soft, albeit mirthless, chuckle escaped her.

Stu looked across the table, a brow cocked and looking mildly confused, "What's so funny?"

"This," Imogen replied, then casually spread her hands in an encompassing, sweeping gesture, "Us. What's that old saying? 'If you don't laugh, you're going to cry', or something like that. Christ, we've seen each other naked for god sake, now we can barely look each other in the eye and keep a conversation going." The smile that didn't reach her eyes slowly faded as she again found her gaze wandering over toward the elderly couple, surprised at the sudden and mild pang of jealousy before guilt squashed it. It was her own fault she was in this situation anyway. "Maybe this was a bad idea..."

"Well- wait, what are you doing?"

"Do you really want to drag this out? I know a lost cause when I see one." Dropping a few notes on the table She abruptly stood up, "I'm sorry for dragging you out here."

He was stunned, not really registering that she was almost out the door. Lost cause? _Lost cause?_ Oh no, she wasn't getting out of this that easily. This had been her idea to begin with, and there had to be a reason for it. He wanted to know exactly what it was. Leaving enough cash for his own meal and tip he walked out, squinting against the bright sunlight as he looked down the board-walk. Stalking toward the parking lot he weaved through the crowd as best he could, getting frustrated by the crush of locals and tourists alike slowing him down. As the groups of people began to thin out the closer he got to the lot he picked up the pace and finally caught sight of her.

Just when he thought he could get ahead he was suddenly ambushed by a small group of fans, who had picked the worst time in the known universe to recognise him. He tried to get around them, politely at first, saying he was in a hurry, but they didn't seem to want to listen. His small amount of charity broke as the insistence for pictures and autographs became incessant, briskly pushing his way through to cries of protest and accusations of being a self centred arsehole. Despite his best efforts he wasn't fast enough, the old Jeep had already pulled out of its space and was heading for the open road. Angry and frustrated he growled, then cursed. What the hell had any of this accomplished?

Making it back to his own car he climbed in then slammed the door shut. His knuckles went white as he gripped the steering wheel for a couple of minutes as he attempted to get a hold of himself. He really should've known better than to think this would have served any other purpose than to rip open old wounds. He had worked hard to claw his way out and put behind him that tumultuous mix of emotions she had left him in the first time, and he'd be damned if he was going to fall back into it again.

When he felt he was calm enough Stu turned the key in the ignition and headed for home, forcing his mind to focus on the mundane tasks of what he would need to pack before heading out to Seattle for Smackdown on Friday. Perhaps he'd take off a day early even, give himself some time to really cool off so he could have a clear and focused head. Yes, he'd do exactly that. Go to Seattle, fool around with Victoria, and work on his match against Alberto. And he would _not_ pay any attention to the small voice telling him he was still undeniably attracted to his ex...

* * *

_This was __**really**__ stubborn to try and write. I'm still not entirely happy with it, but they can't all be winners I guess. Hopefully now that the initial meeting between these two is over things will start to flow again and it wont take me almost two months to update again_.


	12. Chapter 12

**Monday Night Raw, July 15.**

The lights were bright as Nova took to the air, seeming to defy gravity itself for a few brief moments before connecting with the Celestial Vortex, the name that had eventually emerged for the spectacular DDT finisher. Tamina Snuka lay prone in the middle of the ring as her opponent went for the covering pin, the bell sounding off after the successful three count. While both women had ample talent, Tamina's raw strength had given Nova's speed and agility a run for it's money, having almost buried the number one contender on several occasions throughout the match. But ever time the Samoan beauty raised the bar Nova answered the challenge, pulling off more than one dizzying counter to potentially match ending situations. It was rare in a Divas bout to see the particular level of competition they had shown, and the fans had loved every second of it. As Tamina rolled out of the ring and retreated up the ramp the Universe piled their praise upon the high flier, Nova standing there and just soaking it all in for a moment before she too finally made the trek up the ramp and disappeared.

After the... whatever it was... with Stu on Wednesday, it had felt good to finally have a thorough outlet for it all. The match had been therapeutic in its own way, helped greatly by the fact that Sarona knew what she was doing between the ropes. Perhaps this is why she had returned. When the women were allowed a decent amount of time and knew what they were doing, there was no better feeling in the world than having a jam packed arena screaming for their favourites. The overwhelming energy was almost addictive. She found herself thinking one of the many personal second guesses that had come and gone over her decision to be here. How could anything that felt this good possibly be a mistake? If this rush were a drug, she'd definitely be a junkie.

Reluctantly she dragged herself away from the ring and made her way back to the locker room. Debating whether or not to wait around for Phil tonight, she was approached by a stage hand and given a message; she was to see Vince ASAP. Wondering what could be on the senior McMahon's mind, Imogen changed course to see her boss. Opening the door and stepping across the threshold as he bade entry at her knock, she was mildly surprised to find Stephanie present as well.

"Ah, he found you. Excellent," Vince commented as she closed the door, "I've called you here to discuss this potential unmasking of yours."

At the mention of the topic it immediately became clear why his daughter was here, the woman was head of the creative department after all. Anything involving the story would have to ultimately get the OK from her, no matter who the original idea came from. Tugging at the thick velcro strap that ran under her jaw Imogen pulled off tonight's glittery red and white affair, hair pinned firmly against her head and trying not to grin at the look on the face of the older woman.

Vince merely carried on as though Imogen taking the mask off was of no importance to him at all; it was simply business as usual. "I've called you here for two things. The first concerns this eventual unmasking of yours. I'm just going to ask outright- who did you have in mind when this comes off?"

This was something Imogen had thought long and hard over. She'd be damned if it was going to be someone like Victoria or Eve, and had originally considered Natalya considering their long standing friendship though the years. But over the course of the past couple of months Nattie had been shifted towards a baby-face role alongside Dylan and Dalip, so having the two of them going at it didn't make sense. Then, as she was idly watching Smackdown on Friday, the idea struck her.

"Barbie."

If either McMahon was surprised by the choice they didn't show it. Though over the past few years Blank had seemingly found her groove within the business, thanks in no small part to her own hard work and tutelage under Dean Melenko. The continuing relationship she had with Paul Wight hadn't hurt matters either. Suffice to say the Barbie Blank of today was a far cry from the woman she used to be three years a go. Considering the on screen rivalry the two had shared before everything had gone to hell, a chance to revisit it in full and let it play out they way it was meant to have gone could be quite entertaining. There was one problem though, Barbie, like Natalya, was a current fan favourite.

"Alright, I can see how that would be a good idea," Vince began, "But it would also mean one of you taking a heel turn."

Imogen simply shrugged, "I can do it if she doesn't want to. Hell, it's basically a family trait getting the crowd riled up."

This was true; Vince recalled a time in the seventies where both 'The Enforcer' and the 'Spanish Rose' were one of the hottest commodities when it came to heels in the industry, just before he bought the company from his own father. From the heat James and his lovely manager/valet wife Rosa managed to generate, it was hardly surprising that their daughter had cultivated the same talent for it. As unfortunately sexist as the thought was, if Imogen had been a man there was no doubt she would have been a world champion by now, if not a few times over. Enticing as the idea was though, he was still a little apprehensive about the fans all but baying for her blood just yet.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Stephanie spoke up for the first time, "To be honest we've been going over a couple of ideas to turn Blank heel for a change of pace, you just may have given us our best way to to that so far."

"Also, if it's feasible of course, when it happens I'd like a change of entrance music. I just don't think some mellow trance like thing will really suit the unmasked personality shift."

Steph was idly curious as to what the younger woman deemed appropriate, "What did you have in mind?"

"Something along a hard rock vein, I have a few ideas floating around I can give to you when you have time for it."

She nodded, and Vince looked satisfied that the ideas so far worked well for everyone involved. "Well, that's settled then. When you finally finish your feud with Crawford, we'll begin one with Blank. Now, the second thing I wanted to speak to you about. Since the Pay Per View is just around the corner I'd like to get a little more air time to promote the Divas championship match."

"If its going to include the title, shouldn't Crawford be here for this as well?" Steph asked, wondering just what her father was up to.

"Not for this," Vince replied simply before turning his attention back to the wrestler, "What I want until the Pay Per View is for you to have a few matches on Smackdown. The fans love you, and the more screen time to build up the momentum the better."

Imogen blinked at the surprise. Her, on Smackdown? Her mouth opened, but no opposing argument would come forth so instead left her there gaping like a fish. His reasoning for doing this was sound business. For the first time in a long time interest in the Divas division was picking up again, why wouldn't Vince want to keep that going? While it was true she had the option to say no, her reasons for doing it were flimsy at best, especially considering all the concessions the Chairman had shown over the past three months. If things didn't start happening on a more equal footing to the other women questions of favouritism were bound to start up eventually, if they hadn't already. The private meetings, her rather abrupt rise through the Divas ranks and all but immediate title contention... it did look a little suspect to say the least.

_God dammit..._

Vince couldn't help but smile a little, they both knew what the answer was without Campbell having to say a thing. Perhaps this move forward was a good sign. "Excellent. I'm sure Booker will be pleased to have Nova make her first appearance on Friday nights."

* * *

**Smackdown, July 19.**

Imogen took a deep breath to try and calm the butterflies in her stomach as she sat in the rental car, it was the first time she would appear on Smackdown since returning. Part of her was excited, Nattie would be here, so perhaps they could play secret squirrel and meet up with Cody after the show. The other part was nervous as hell, mainly for one very tall, dark, handsome, English reason. She knew she had to be careful if she encountered him, he knew her tells like no-one else. If he got to close Imogen didn't doubt that he could reasonably join the dots and work it out for himself just who Nova was. Maybe she could just hide out in the women's locker room until it was time for her match...

At least she didn't have to tolerate Victoria hanging off him like some sort of succubus.

Finally deciding that sitting in the car procrastinating wasn't going to solve anything, Imogen climbed out and retrieved her bag from the back seat. If there was one plus tonight it was that she could finally get her hands on Eve at some point in her tag match. She was to team up with Kaitlyn, while Eve was partnered with AJ Lee. Imogen knew next to nothing about either AJ or Kaitlyn, but from what Beth had filled her in on neither were terribly bad to work with and they seemed to get along well enough with most of the other women on the rosters.

A few fans broke into her thoughts when they recognised the almost _Assassin's Creed_ like styled hood that had become her trademark when on the road out in public. Pushing up the oversize sunglasses that had slipped a little down her nose she walked over, much to their approval, signed a few autographs for the younger fans among them and posed for a few pictures. It came to an abrupt end when she felt a hand at the back of her neck trying to close around the fabric there, whirling around in a flash and startling the small crowd. Trying to quickly reign in the uprising hostility she bared her teeth at the person in question and stalked off, the admonishment from others bombarding the offender.

Once inside Imogen made a beeline straight for the women's locker room, finding an unused space in the far corner and dumped her bag on a nearby chair. Learning her lesson from a few of weeks a go, she immediately put her mask on while having her back to the rest of the room. Once it was on a sort of calming effect slowly overcame her, the concealing feeling around her face almost like that of a security blanket. Pulling out the rest of her costume she studied the slightly new design; instead of the sleeveless one piece she had been sporting for months it was now in two, the top being short enough to expose the majority of her abs. She wasn't sure how she felt about it. In the onesie she had felt somewhat less self conscious, though she had worn far more revealing things over the years as Callisto by comparison to what she held.

With a frustrated huff she dropped it back on top of the bag and unzipped the light cotton hoodie and removed her shirt before pulling on the new ring gear. Maybe it didn't look so bad once she actually saw how it fit her frame. Once she was done Imogen appraised the image in reflecting back at her. A cascade of blue and silver metallic stars over the black lycra stretched almost enticingly across her chest and thighs, leaving lines for the eye to follow if they so chose. Repressing a scowl she immediately wished she had packed an older costume. It wasn't that the new gear looked bad, in fact it was quite the opposite; it looked good. To good. To... sexy.

She didn't _want_ to look 'sexy'. It's what got her into so much trouble to begin with.

Anxiously rubbing the back of her neck, a familiar voice came from behind her. "Looking good, Nova," Natalya commented with a grin, "_Love_ the new outfit." This time Imogen didn't bother hiding the emerging scowl before she stared back into the mirror, giving the person looking back back some choice, colourful Spanish. Not understanding the words by recognising the tone, Nattie's face went from happy to concerned, "What's the matter."

"It just feels a little... _exposed_."

Natalya bit back a snort as she made sure she couldn't be overheard, "This coming from the woman who competed in little more than a glorified string bikini when she was eighteen?"

"Don't remind me," Imogen groaned, covering her face with her palm. "God, that night was a nightmare. I think I'd rather take the unscripted senton from the ladder out of the ring like I did in '05 than do that again."

"You mean the insane stunt where the only thing you remember is waking up in a hospital bed because you ended up knocking yourself out?"

"That's the one." Looking at Natalya's own reflection over her shoulder Imogen cocked her head, "What?"

"You are... I don't think there are adequate words to describe your occasional bouts of lunacy sometimes." She shook her head, mainly to hide the exasperated mother hen look. "Come on, I want you to introduce you to Celeste and April."

"By all means," Imogen replied with a waving gesture, "Lead the way."


	13. Chapter 13

_Gasp! An update! _

_Apologies for the long silence, but as some of you may have known a'la reading my profile (or just plain figured out) I had fallen into another lapse of creative burnout. While I still haven't found the interest to watch any WWE programming, hopefully this chapter will be the kick in the pants I need to at least finish this story and work on some of the others that have suffered. In the meantime, enjoy!_

* * *

The room was heavy with the scent of sweat and sex as well manicured nails traced the contours of well defined muscle. Calloused hands lazily caressed toned thighs as Randy Orton stared down at the woman beneath of him with a smirk. Life, at least for the foreseeable future, was looking good. He had just finished making a movie, a title reign was in his near future and he had a reliable lay in his bed. The best thing about the last of that list was no strings attached. Of course, who she was dating gave it that much more of a kick.

Eventually he rolled off her and reached out for the remote, turning on the TV to catch what was left of the Smackdown broadcast. Nova and Eve were going at it, though it was obvious the luchadora was gaining the upper hand, so he surmised the match was almost over. Sure enough she picked up the win a couple of minutes after, much to the annoyance of the woman next to him, if the huff of irritation was anything to go by. Randy just ignored it, simply put he didn't give a shit either way about the women's division. For the most part it had almost always been treated as an unofficial intermission and occasional promo spot for _Playboy_ magazine.

Victoria stretched languidly, smirking at the after match scenario that played out before getting up and heading for the bathroom. Adjusting the temperature of the water she stepped under the stream and began working the soap into a rich lather while getting lost in her thoughts. Before this Nova character had shown up, rumours were it was either going to be April or Celeste who was going to be next for a title run, but not for a couple more months. All of a sudden this nobody from Mexico shows up that no-one knows next to nothing about, and she gets the shot almost as soon as she walks through the door? Why was she getting the special treatment? If she didn't know better, Crawford would have suspected that Nova was doing special favours for the boss, but after that huge mess with Shane she doubted this was the case.

Apart from losing her title, something was going on with Stu, she just knew it. Seeing Imogen had rattled him more than he was willing to admit, and something had happened to make him become more reserved since July. It had something to do with Campbell, she just knew it, but the question was what was it? Turning the water off she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself. As good of a lay as the Englishman was, perhaps it was time to cut him loose. She didn't want to deal with whatever emotional baggage that was mounting. Besides, in a month or two he wouldn't even be champion any more... perhaps she could manipulate Randy into something a little more permanent?

With a dismissive shrug she re-emerged into the bedroom and got dressed, she had a flight to catch and couldn't afford to be late.

* * *

Imogen sank into the seat on the plane and closed her eyes as music quietly serenaded her through headphones. Absently she gently rubbed at her throat, it was still tender from where Eve had taken a shot with a stiff forearm during their staged brawl after their match earlier in the evening, but the doc gave her the all clear, assuring her it was nothing serious and she'd feel better in the morning. Aside from the incident, the past couple weeks of appearing on Smackdown had been fun, despite having to travel from one end of the country to the other and the occasional game of 'avoid the Englishman'. Imogen didn't quite trust herself being too close to Bennett and thus give him a chance to figure out just who Nova was.

She couldn't wait to get home and spend a day or two in a real bed before heading off to Raw bright and early on Monday morning. The next show was thankfully going to be held in Jacksonville, so travel wise she really didn't have a huge amount of ground to cover. Lazily she pulled the light cotton hood down further out of habit at the movement that heralded the arrival of her seat neighbour. Her attention aimlessly drifted on the current of music, not paying attention to one thing or another until he answered a call with a very familiar English accented voice. Murphy's Law was one thing, but this was ridiculous.

"Yes, Victoria... No, Victoria... Uh huh..." Stu juggled his phone as he stuffed a bag into the overhead compartment. It was late, he was sore and the flight from Seattle to Tampa would take over five hours. The diva seemed oblivious to this fact, however, as she continued to go in the same circles she had for the past few weeks when it was announced that the new girl was the contender for her title. Why wouldn't the boss put the strap on the hottest commodity the women's division had seen in a good long while? The Nova character was becoming as popular as Lita or Trish Stratus. While no-one really liked having to pass the title along, she knew that this was going to happen eventually. Hell, even he was slated to lose his title soon, and to returning Randy Orton no less.

He sighed as he all but flopped into his seat, rubbing his eyes; he felt so tired and just wanted to sleep. "Well, what do you expect me to do about it, exactly?" The moment the words came out in their blatantly irritated tone he regretted it.

Ugh. Now he was in for it.

Imogen fought the amused yet sympathetic grin that wanted to show itself when she chanced a peek at him; he really did look worn out and no doubt Crawford wasn't helping anything. Without thinking she reached over and took his cell then abruptly turned it off, much to his disbelief that a random stranger had taken such liberties.

"The hell do you- wait, I know you." He watched as the hooded girl shifted under the scrutiny of his gaze, "You're Nova, right?"

Imogen simply nodded in response. If she said anything she knew the game was over.

"So... Tampa bound, huh?" She merely nodded again and he raised a suspicious brow, catching a faint trace of the fragrance she wore. He _knew_ that scent. "Where are you staying?"

She simply cleared her throat before gesturing at it with a finger, suggesting it hurt to much to warrant conversation. It wasn't a complete lie, but it wasn't exactly the truth either.

Stu continued to stare at her, noting the luchadora was distinctively uncomfortable under his observation. Eventually he stopped; if the woman didn't want to talk, he wasn't about to force the issue. Considering how hard Eve had nailed her with that forearm he couldn't really blame her for it. He stared at his phone and debated if he should risk turning it back on, gods only knew just how bad the less than kind voice mail that was likely already awaiting him from Victoria was going to be. Deciding against it he slipped it into his pocket, he'd simply pass it off as the battery dying. Whether or not she'd buy the lie he didn't really care.

As the plane started its take-off along the runway Stu stole a sideways glance at his companion, who had opted for staring out the small window at the countless lights that lit up the city thousands of feet in the air. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as his silent frustration began to mount; there were too many similarities between the two, too many clues for him to ignore. Just how stupid did she think he was, anyway? Was that the real reason she had asked him out to lunch? Just what was it with his life and women making it complicated over the past couple of months? With an almost inaudible sigh Stu got the attention of the stewardess after the plane levelled out, he needed a damn drink. One by one the small personal overhead lights for each passenger slowly winked out as people began to settle in for whatever sleep they could get in their seats, leaving the interior cast in dim ambience.

Eventually Stu nodded off. His dreams came to be haunted by the faint sounds of music the likes of of Billy Idol, David Bowieand Bruce Springsteen as a familiar perfume teased him. The source for all these things came in the form of an achingly familiar figure that kept one step ahead wearing a mischievous smile, making his pursuit a futile endeavour; it was maddening. It raced effortlessly across dunes and down to the shore of a strange beach, the colour of obsidian. Almost childlike it splashed among the rolling tide as he fell to his knees, exhausted from the run through the sand. The figure turned to him and giggled, oblivious to the monster that had just arisen from the deep. He tried to shout a warning but it was if his voice had abandoned him as he struggled to get up, the earth beneath him all of a sudden had a consistency almost like tar. He was forced to helplessly watch as the creature approached the shore, taking the form of the one man in the world he wanted to rip apart more than anything. Desperately he struggled to break free, fear and anger almost tangible things that hung in the air as he sank further into the mire. The one whom he had followed saw what lurked behind and tried to flee, but it was too late. Both went fell to the ground, one on top of the other, and Stu's anger flared into fury, inflamed even more by his inability to stop what was in front of him.

He woke up with a start, taking a second or two to remember where he was. Seething emotions slowly died away as the vivid images faded and he looked at his watch, he had barely gotten two hours sleep. Stu ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, he hadn't had a nightmare like that for a long while. Looking at 'Nova' he found her sound asleep, the faintest sound of Billy Joel could be heard from the headphones that had slipped down around her neck. The woman's slow, steady breathing seem to calm him somewhat, and idly he wondered what she dreamed about. Abruptly she shifted, ending up with her head resting on his shoulder.

He simply watched her for a while, taking in the features that had been revealed to him when the hood had shifted and left her face partially exposed. He was surprised, not with Imogen but with himself. He had expected something other than the unexpected reassurance he felt creeping over him. Perhaps it was because it confirmed that he was right about her identity all along. His hand moved, then stopped as he resisted the urge to touch her before gently pulling the cover back to hide her face, relieved that he didn't managed to wake her up in the process. That would have been beyond awkward...

He dozed through the rest of the flight, not really awake but not fully asleep, not wanting to fall back into that horrid dreamscape. Finally the chime came over the speakers and the captain informed the passengers that they would landing in minutes, so with a gentle nudge Stu woke Imogen up. Heading to the baggage claim after disembarking he stood a few feet away as they both waited for their respective bags to emerge along the conveyor belt. Hers appeared first and she hauled it off then turned to leave before hesitating, although he couldn't see it, Stu just knew she was looking at him. The indecisive moment passed and Imogen headed for the nearest exit, disappearing into the night.

His own luggage finally showed and he grabbed it, then pulled out his cell and turned it on. Ignoring the notification of several missed calls and the predicted voice mail, he opened up his contacts until he found the for a certain Canadian. Despite the late hour he knew if he procrastinated now he wouldn't do it at all, and it was high time this ridiculous game came to an end. _I need a favour_, was the simple text he sent.

_It better be a good one at this hour._

He almost cringed at that, but he knew what he would as next would pique enough curiosity to warrant Natalya's forgiveness. _I need the phone number for Brooks_.

_Brooks? As in Phil?_

_Yes. Before you ask, don't. This is already hard enough._

He waited a minute, like she hadn't quite believed what she had read before finally getting the answer. _I hope you know what you're doing_.

"That makes two of us," Stu muttered quietly to himself before flagging down a cab and giving the driver his address. Whatever happened next was either going to go really well or blow up in his face.


End file.
